Expert Testimony 5: Aftermath
by EvilAsch
Summary: Follow up to Unhappy Ending, Prentiss gets an email and makes a call...
1. Desk Duty & Long Distance Calls

**_A/N I'm like a mouse with a crack addiction, I can't push the lever for food, I can only push the lever for angst and violence and more ET fics. Oh self. _**

The files were stacked nearly eighteen inches high on her desk, teetering and threatening to topple at every heavy step. She pursed her lips and frowned toward Derek Morgan's pristine desk and cut a glance at Reid's mildly cluttered desk.

"Problem Prentiss?" Rossi asked as he walked past her desk on the way to the break room. He had a file tucked under one arm and was holding his smartphone with both hands.

"Am I being punished for my sins?" She asked bleakly.

Rossi stared at the three teetering stacks, slumped against one another like sad soviet era tenements longing for demolition. He glanced at his smartphone and scowled.

"Desk duty?" He asked looking up from his phone and quirking an eyebrow.

She nodded glumly.

"Riiight, buy you a coffee?" He offered nodding at the break room. She sighed and followed him. He slipped his phone into his pocket.

"I hate technology." He grumbled.

"Nah, you're just not used to it."

"It invades everything, used to be you could take your phone off the hook, ignore your mail, and be left alone. Not anymore."

"Progress?" She suggested with a smile. Rossi grunted sourly earning a small smile from Prentiss.

"They won't clear me for the field or for secure cases until my background check comes back." She sighed..

"Background check?" Rossi asked pouring two mugs of over-brewed coffee. She nodded.

"Apparently they don't like how I spent my leave of absence."

Rossi thought about that as he added sugar to the coffee. Normally Rossi was fastidious about his coffee and would never adulterate it with cheap sugar or a sugar substitute but break room coffee wasn't on the same plane of existence as his usual brew. Prentiss took hers black.

"So desk duty and reviewing cases?" He prompted.

"Apparently." She sighed accepted a mug from Rossi. She savored the familiar sour tang for a moment. Rossi smiled and slurped his own drink.

"What did you tell them? About your leave of absence?"

She flashed him a brittle smile at that.

"The bare minimum, I worked as an unpaid private security investigator for a wealthy client, we traveled a bit and when he didn't need me anymore I came back to work. I took the case and the leave of absence to avoid a conflict of interest." She said the last in an exaggerated conspiratorial whisper. Rossi and the rest of Hotch's team new full well what she'd been up to.

"Plausible enough." He admitted.

She shrugged and drank more coffee.

"Derek said he called you." Rossi ventured. Neither needed to point out that the 'he' in question was Methos.

Prentiss stared at the mirrored surface of her mug for a full five seconds before lifting her head and confirming Rossi's question.

"What did he say?" Rossi asked carefully. He enjoyed a good rapport with Prentiss, almost all of them did though he realized there were aspects to her that he hadn't scratched. For all her amiability, dedication, and loyalty there were some things she held close to the chest.

"Nothing and everything. He's in Seacouver now I think, at least he said he would be."

"You could visit." He suggested carefully.

She smiled wryly.

"I think the Bureau would frown if I took any more leave just now. Besides I…I don't know if I want to go there again."

Rossi knew she wasn't speaking about Seacouver, or Seattle, or Washington.

"I've been married three times Prentiss, and every time I genuinely thought it would work, last forever, the whole nine yards. Call me a romantic."

"So you're saying it was worth it?"

"I don't know. But no one does, that's the point. Part of love is trust and part of trust is risk."

"If I'm with him we'll never have peace and I'll never have children."

Rossi fell silent drinking his coffee. There was a girl, a few years before, her family had been annihilated by a pair of killers. Prentiss had offered to take the girl in before her relatives had come forward. He had never truly wanted children himself but the pain he'd seen ever so quickly in her eyes spoke volumes.

"More coffee?" He offered after a few moments of silence had passed.

"What the hell I'll need it to get through that stack." She said with a smile. Case closed, conversation ended, future set. He watched her walk back to her desk and wondered if it really was.

She set to on the stacks with a will. They'd been organized alphabetically which was fine for the clerical staff that had likely pulled and stacked them on her desk but she needed to sort them by urgency. She separated everything that was over two years old and set them aside. Then she skimmed the cover page summary of each file and organized them by propensity of further acts.

She settled on what she judged to be the most urgent – a six month old case with all the signs of a compulsive sexual sadist - and set to work. Time drifted into meaningless white noise, agents came and went, researchers, clerks, Hotch and Rossi. Someone asked her about lunch, she waved them off. At some point she finished with the first file, wrote up her analysis and submitted it, picked up a new file and bent to work again. The second file went down easier than the first, so she picked up the third and opened to the first sheet.

"Emily?" Reid asked. She blinked and looked up from the file.

"It's almost seven, are you planning on going home tonight?" He asked worriedly. His face did an unconsciously adorable scrunch when he was genuinely concerned, Prentiss had noticed it early on in her interactions with him and noted it now.

"I guess I lost track of time." She admitted.

"You didn't eat lunch either." He pointed out.

"Yeah…I guess I was distracted." She laughed and pushed away from the desk.

"You wanna grab something to eat?" She asked. She would enjoy his company but more than that Reid didn't necessarily require an active partner to hold a conversation. She didn't want to have to think of things to say and didn't want to be alone.

"Sure I guess, hey there's this Greek restaurant I've been meaning to check out –" She gathered her things while he talked and they walked to the elevator.

* * *

><p>As they were finishing their meal she took the time to check her phone for messages or emails. The rumble of the restaurant and the slightly sharper notes of Reid's voice faded as she stared at the email on her phone.<p>

_Call me._

_Joe_

She felt cold and panicked. She hadn't really known Joe, hadn't really met him but she knew who he was, the only person Methos trusted enough to watch over his interests. His best friend in a way, his only friend maybe.

"Emily?" Reid asked concerned. She flicked a gaze up at him, met his eyes, thought about lying, and couldn't be bothered.

"I need to make a call, I'll be right back." She stepped outside to do it, she tapped the phone number in the email twice and hit call when the option popped up. She held it to her ear and half hoped Joe wouldn't anser.

"Joe's." A softe female voice said promptly.

"Is Joe in?"

"May I ask who's callin'?" The woman asked shortening the last word in the soft accentless manner of the west coast.

"Adam's friend."

There was a soft clunk, presumably as the receiver was rested on a hard surface. Prentiss could hear the woman shout to someone else then a long pause.

"This better be who I think it is." Joe growled.

His voice was a pleasant tenor, burred with age or whiskey, maybe both.

"I got your email."

"Things are bad here."

"How bad?"

"Tell me what happened on Carthis."

"I don't really know what happened –"

"He changed, not for the better I know you two splittin' up didn't help but something happened, spill."

"I.." She swallowed throat suddenly dry and tried to gather her thoughts.

"You know what he used to be?"

An informed silence filled the line, she forged ahead.

"Death…he let Death out and…he stayed around somehow…somehow he took him in, I don't know how to explain it without sounding crazy but he absorbed Death. He couldn't lock him away anymore so he incorporated him."

"Christ." Joe snarled.

"Is that why you two –"

She stiffened, "That's none of your business." She snarled back.

Pause, she could hear the bar in the background.

"You're right." No apology.

"What's wrong? What's going on?"

"Christ, maybe nothing if he let that bastard out permanently-"

"It wasn't like that Joe, he was still him, he was…stronger somehow, more intense, but still _him_. He was harsher, less patient, more…fuck _efficient_ I guess but he wasn't pillaging and raping."

"While you were with him." She wasn't sure if it was an accusation or a question.

"What the fuck is going on Joe?"

A long, long pause, she was tempted to hang up, catch a flight and bawl Joe out in person.

"Maybe nothing. Look, I'm sorry I called –"

"Fuck you it doesn't work like that, you don't get to take a shit on my day and hang up Joe, give me answers."

Heavy breathing, not sexual or lewd, more like how a person might breath after jogging up a double flight of stairs.

"What happened on Carthis?"

She nearly hung up on him then.

"GoddamnitJoe!" She snarled in one hot breath.

The line went dead. She nearly threw her phone but managed to put it safely in her pocket safe from her rage. She forced herself to calm down and breathe slowly and deeply before returning to Reid.

"You okay?" Reid asked looking up from his plate.

"No, sorry Reid I think I need to cut this short."

"You deserve a life too." Reid said sharply. Prentiss paused in reaching for the check and stared at him.

"What?" She asked utterly confused.

"Ben, Adam, Methos whoever he is, doesn't own you. You deserve your own life."

"Reid I have a life but –"

"No you don't you work like twelve hour days, you skip lunch, your cat probably doesn't even recognize you."

She straightened, deciding to stick Reid with the check.

"Emily –"

"I love him Reid, god help me I do." She snapped.

"You left him." It wasn't a question.

She didn't answer for a moment.

"Yes, I did, I…I want the chance to have children one day Reid, and that can never happen with him."

"That didn't bother you before –"

"How is this your business?" She asked coldly.

"You're letting him ruin your life –"

"That's _my_ call." She said softly.

He didn't answer.

She booked a flight for Seacouver on the way to the airport she called Hotch.

"Prentiss? Is anything wrong?" Hotch asked, his voice was soft but concerned.

"I have to go to Seacouver."

He was quiet.

"You're certain?"

"Something's wrong –"

"Prentiss if you go before your background check comes through it will jeopardize your clearance."

She felt her eyes sting and burn with tears suddenly. She was so fucking tired, she just wanted to put her head on her arms and sleep for a thousand years.

"Prentiss?"

"I have to go Hotch, I…it's not just that…I have questions. I don't remember what happened on Carthis Hotch, and I have to…I have to find out."

"I'll do what I can for you."

"Thanks Hotch I…I owe you."

"Good luck Emily." He said gently.

She hung up and ignored her tears.


	2. Secrets & Edges

Appropriately it was raining when her flight landed at Seatac. She hadn't called ahead, hadn't told Joe she would be arriving, though it wouldn't surprise her if he had assumed or guessed that she would be. Joe Dawson struck her as an intelligent man. She half wished she'd taken the time to run a quick search on him before heading to the airport. As the aircraft taxied to the terminal she played with the idea of calling Garcia for a check but decided against it. Garcia had enough black marks on her file for the higher ups to hassle her over, Prentiss wouldn't add another.

Once off the plane and out of the arrivals terminal she considered her next action. She didn't know where Methos was, didn't know what the fucking problem even was, so…

"Taxi!" She called. A green and white cab with Sitka Cab company scrawled on the door oozed to a halt at the curb in front of her.

"Joe's bar in Seacouver." She said getting in. The driver grinned. It would be a healthy fare.

She dozed as the cabbie drove, not caring if he screwed her fare by looping the I-5 corridor – he didn't- she noted on waking. When Prentiss roused she glanced out of the cab window at the rain bright streets of Seacouver.

"You alright lady?" The cabbie asked.

"Long flight." She replied automatically noting his hack license on his dash, description and name. Old habits.

"Do you like Seacouver Anton?"

"Eh it's got its charms I guess. Prefer Seattle m'self."

She smiled tiredly. "As a cabbie or a citizen?" She asked.

"Heh, good question, probably both, though the best fares are at Seatac."

She nodded and fell silent.

Joe's, it turned out was a somewhat charming largish bar in the downtown area. She thanked the cabbie, tipped him generously, and got out. She shifted her overnight bag on her shoulder and felt a shiver as the misting rain settled on her skin.

"Come on Emily." She muttered to herself and walked to the bar entrance.

The bar had about twelve small tables settled in front of a low step-up stage with booths lining one wall. She could see the entrance to a banquet room near the hallway that held restrooms. The bar itself was a rich highly polished dark wood of some kind. A twenty-something heavily muscled brunette with extremely short hair and a hard look to her eyes was tending the bar. Prentiss adjusted the bag on her shoulder again and approached the bar.

The 'tender glanced up at her.

"What can I get you? House special is Pyramid Heffeweizen on tap." She said leaning against the bar top.

"Sounds good, is Joe in?"

The woman froze and examined Prentiss with hot predatory intensity for a few seconds.

"He's in the back, what'd'you want with him?" Again the rapid slurring of words common to the nearly neutral west coast accent.

"Just tell him Prentiss is here."

The bartender's green eyes widened a hair, Prentiss wasn't certain she'd even seen the reaction, but the thinning and tightening of the woman's mouth was unmistakable. The bartender nodded, a tight jerking motion and flung a bar towel over her shoulder. Prentiss watched her pour the pint.

The woman wasn't tall, on the short side of average. She moved with a very physical confidence and while she was muscular enough that her physique was clear from across the room it wasn't the bulging steroidal musculature of a dedicated bodybuilder. Prentiss suddenly wondered if the woman was an immortal. As the thought occurred to her the bartender put the pint in front of Prentiss and disappeared through a door marked private behind the bar. Prentiss guessed it lead to storage, maybe an office or possibly a small kitchen.

She tasted the beer and was surprised by its light almost fruity taste. It was quite good she decided and drank down half of it. The bartender returned a few minutes later and filled the tickets of three waitresses for their tables then served a handful of newcomers at the bar before returning to Prentiss.

Prentiss noticed that the waitresses bantered easily enough with the bartender but none of the newcomers bellied up to the bar offered her anything but polite conversation. She thought that was odd as the bartender seemed fairly friendly and was attractive enough.

"Refill?"

"Actually do you serve food at all? Just got off a flight and I'm famished."

The bartender smiled a thin amused smile. "Mike makes a decent burger."

"Okay, beer and a burger then."

The bartender nodded.

"Uh wait, is Joe?"

"He'll be out in a bit. You here about Adam?" The bartender asked pulling a second pint.

"Sorry, who?" Prentiss asked carefully.

The woman grinned.

"My name's Max. Adam's an old friend, if you get my meaning." She said setting the fresh pint next to the half-finished one in Prentiss' loose grip. Prentiss stared at Max and the pieces settled into place.

"I thought you might be."

"Oy! Max! Need a hand!" A burly man shouted from the other end of the bar. Max made a face.

"Be right back." She said not unkindly.

Prentiss finished her first beer and watched the bar crowd. Max helped the burly balding man unload several cases of imported beer then deftly mixed drinks, pulled pints, and even poured a few soft drinks for the milling crowds and waitresses. She returned a few minutes later with Prentiss' burger.

"Right, so you good?" Max asked.

Prentiss noticed a tattoo barely visible on the immortal's upper right arm.

"How can you have a tattoo?" Prentiss blurted.

Max glanced toward it and smiled. She gripped the sleeve and pulled it up. The tattoo round with a triangular design laid over stylized bars with a reverse slightly more opaque triangle underlying it and winglike projections. Behind it was a half circle and above it all the initials SGC.

"Military?" Prentiss asked. It vaguely reminded her of the unit patches military personnel often wore on their non-dress uniforms.

Something flickered over Max's face.

"Something like that. See a tattoo isn't really an injury, it's more like a really painful injection and skin scraping."

"So you heal as soon as the needle moves on?"

"Yeah, Adam says I'll probably need to get it touched up or it'll fade and eventually disappear."

"Interesting. SGC huh?" Prentiss poked.

Max drew down her sleeve in a decisive gesture. The woman was dressed in dark jeans, what Prentiss guessed were jump boots, and a black short sleeved fitted shirt. On her shoulder lay the ubiquitous bar towel. Her hair was just short of fashionable but Prentiss guessed it was a utilitarian rather than a fashion choice; short hair was harder to grip in a fight.

"I don't talk about that part of my life." Max said simply. Prentiss nodded, willing to accept that. She had her own secrets after all, besides something told her antagonizing Max wouldn't be the best course of action, and in the end she was too tired to give a damn. She set to eating her burger while Max kept working.

Joe appeared half an hour later as the bar traffic was dying down – it was a weekday after all. Max and Joe exchanged a swift glance and Max called for last orders.

Once the last of the patrons were gone Joe approached Prentiss. Max followed on his heels.

"You look surprised." Prentiss said by way of introduction.

Joe was a sturdy looking man though he used a cane and limped heavily. He was dressed simply and neatly, he wore a beard but it was trimmed impeccably.

"You came to see Adam?" It wasn't really a question though he phrased it that way.

"Where is he?" She asked cold steel in her tone.

"He has a room, I'll take you." Max volunteered. Prentiss watched Joe's face, it was hard, stony but he nodded finally. Prentiss got the impression that Max didn't really need Joe's permission but preferred to have it. She followed Max outside.

"Got a car?" Max asked her. Prentiss blinked.

"No –"

"S'alright we'll walk." Max interrupted. She slipped on a heavy hip length leather jacket. It looked like a motorcycle jacket but lacked some of the fittings. The way Max held it and handled it made Prentiss suspect it was quite a bit heavier than it seemed. Once the jacket was on she slipped a hand behind her back as though scratching an itch on her spine. Prentiss frowned but the gesture was so swift and automatic that Max didn't twig Prentiss' observation.

Max set off down the uneven sidewalk apparently content for Prentiss to trail after. Prentiss caught up to her new guide.

"So how do you know him?" She asked. Max smiled at the way Prentiss avoided using his alias.

"He…well he was a bit of a mentor."

"Your teacher?" Prentiss asked. Methos had explained the concept of mentor/mentee pairs in the immortal world.

"Sort of. It's kind of complicated." Max said and paused to study an intersection they were approaching, seemingly satisfied with what she saw, she cleared her throat and continued, "See, I died a violent death like all the rest of us but mine, well, it was a bit more traumatic than the usual. Did a number on my skull. He and Duncan sort of set me straight."

Prentiss thought about that. Violent deaths, by and large, were extraordinarily rare in the modernized West. The ways a young woman could die violently weren't necessarily that different from the ways a young man might, but Max's mention of trauma settled like a weight in Prentiss' stomach. She had a terrible feeling that she had a good idea of just how Max had died. Why she was so militantly and clearly dedicated to surviving? Because she'd failed to, because someone had murdered her. Prentiss knew that statistically speaking the odds of being targeted by a sexual sadist or other killer or becoming the victim of a stranger assault weren't high but somehow, she knew that was what had happened to her new companion. Prentiss swallowed hard, stomach suddenly roiling.

"It's not far now, 'bout three blocks. He isn't expecting anyone –"

"That's why you volunteered to guide me, you didn't want to surprise him?' Prentiss guessed.

"Yeah, nothing personal but it's not really a good idea to walk up to an immortal and shout boo, very bad things can happen. Look, I don't know how things ended between you or why, but I know he'd be annoyed if I let you get hurt because he was startled." Max explained as they crossed another empty intersection.

"Hurt?" Prentiss asked. Max just shrugged and picked up the pace. Four minutes later Prentiss got an idea of what Max meant.

Max was slightly ahead of Prentiss again, in spite of Prentiss' longer stride and good fitness and excellent health, she found it difficult to keep pace with the shorter woman. Max was talking about Adam/Methos' job at Seacouver University when a man lunged out of a darkened storefront a knife in one hand and slashed out at Max.

Prentiss automatically reached for her weapon – that she'd left in her desk in D.C. along with her credentials. Max's reaction was far more practical, and brutal. The smaller woman twisted and writhed away from the knife, kicked the attacker square in the groin with one booted foot while driving a savage right hook into his jaw. The man let out a strangled squeal and collapsed back into the doorway. Max picked up the man's dropped knife, leaned over him to check his pulse then riffled through his pockets. She found a nearly empty packet of cigarettes, a matchbook from a topless dancing club, and a battered out of date driver's license. She pocketed the license and lit a cigarette before tossing the matches and smokes back to the gasping and groaning man.

"Look friend, I've got your ID. I know your name and even though this is out of date believe me when I say I can and will find where you lay your pretty head at night. Get out of my city." She said and breathed a lungful of tar into the man's face, he'd begun to cry and whimper in fear and pain. She looked at Prentiss then.

The agent was still tensed for action empty hand hovering over her hip where her weapon usually rode, face transfixed by the tableau before her.

"Souvenir?" Max asked around the cigarette in her mouth, as she held the cheap knife toward Prentiss, handle first.

Prentiss took the knife, she wasn't sure why just that it seemed stupid to stand there staring at it. Max rolled her shoulders and took the cigarette from her mouth.

"Come on." She urged and started walking again, a rolling hip shot stroll. A satisfied strut Prentiss realized as she followed feeling numb and rather surreal. She held the knife in her hand until she realized it would look rather suspicious on a dark street so she carefully slipped it into her back pocket and shrugged her coat over it.

Two blocks later they arrived at a seedy looking brick apartment building. A drunken lump of humanity blocked the main entrance. As they approached the building Max frowned and shook her head as though suddenly remembering a forgotten chore.

"He's home?" Prentiss asked.

"Someone with a particularly long lifeline is." Max confirmed.

"I never asked, how old are you?" Prentiss asked.

"Uhh I dunno, twenty-something, thirty maybe? Been a busy few years." Max shrugged and stepped over the vagrant. She slipped a key out of her hip pocket and shouldered the door open.

"Frame sticks." She said absently and stepped into the building. Prentiss followed carefully.

"Why does he live _here_?" Prentiss asked. She thought she knew but she wanted Max's opinion.

"Dunno, security maybe." Max shrugged. She lead them down the hall to the right and unlocked a second door marked maintenance. This lead down to what Prentiss guessed was a basement.

"Okay, creepy much?" She muttered. Max grunted in agreement and flipped on a light switch.

"Hey! Adam! You in?" Max shouted, loud enough that it would be impossible to ignore her.

"Since when do you bother to ask?" The familiar drawl of her lover's voice was such a shock that Prentiss froze in place on the stairs.

"Since I feel like it you geezer." Max snorted and walked down the last of the stairs.

"Whose with you?" He asked with a hint of annoyance.

"Not Macleod, you two been bickering again?"

"The boyscout wants to know how I scarred my arm, doesn't seem to like my answer."

"I've brought a visitor."

"I know, who?" He asked voice edged with weary annoyance. Prentiss forced her knees to unlock, forced her legs to move. She walked down and as the edge of the upper floor fell away she saw more of the room. It was clean, well lit, a single bed, two bureaus, a draftsman's table, laptop on the cot and stacks of books against the wall nearest the bed.

Finally she saw Max, her back to the stairs, and…and Methos.

He looked healthy, strong, eyes bright, in need of a haircut, skin flushed with what looked like a tan. He seemed tired but when his eyes met hers she froze, she was overwhelmed with relief and the sharp sweet longing for his touch.

"Emily." He said it with warm surprise.

"Methos." She echoed and stepped off the last stair. Max might as well have been another bureau for all the notice they took of her. He walked to her, steps stiff, like dog circling an intruder. Her heart hurt to see that wariness in him, how badly had she hurt him?

"Joe called –"

"He doesn't much like the new me, neither does the boyscout." He admitted pausing in front of her. She stepped closer to him and reached for him. He drifted away, just out of her reach, but not far enough to end the conversation.

"Why are you here? Have you changed your mind?" He asked. The sound of a stair creaking under pressure drew his attention, it was Max leaving.

"Your friend is…interesting." She said by way of distraction.

"She's a serial killer." Methos said brushing past her.

"Wha-"

"Well, she would be if she weren't an immortal and she'd survived her first death. Well, that is to say, not died in the first place." He qualified with a small chuckle while sitting down at the drafting desk.

"Methos please –"

"Why are you here Emily? To hurt me?"

"What? No-"

"Joe is meddling." He said darkly and bent to a drawing on the desk.

"Methos."

"Are you here to stay? Do you want to get married? Make love by the moonlight?" He barked looking up from the drawing at her.

"What's wrong? This isn't –"

"Like me? Maybe because I'm not me, not anymore, I'm not _him_ either I'm …what am I?" He muttered the last to himself more than her and started to draw again.

She felt clammy fear lock down on her heart. Was he mad? Had she done this?

"Methos stop it, just look at me." She demanded. His hand stopped moving over the paper. He straightened and turned in the seat to stare at her. His eyes were hard, flinty, she swallowed under that gaze.

"I was wrong, I love you, I do want children Methos but we could adopt –"

"No, no children, too many questions, too many hurts." He snapped and twisted back to the paper.

Jesus he was manic.

She licked dry lips and tried again. "What are you drawing?" She asked gently.

He paused and got up from the desk in one swift movement. She looked at his work.

He was using charcoal, his fingers were now black with it. The image was a self-portrait but it was dark and shadowed leaving half the face in doubt.

"That's very good, I didn't know you could draw."

"Don't know me at all really." He said sharply. She looked away from the paper to his face, he looked sad as well as tired now.

"Let me."

"You don't love me, you loved _him_." He spat.

"The man I love is in you, he's part of you, Death hasn't changed you that much Methos."

"How do you know?" He asked. She stepped close to him, leaned against his chest, and slipped her arms around his waist.

"I just do." She lied firmly.

After an eternity his strong arms slipped around her.

* * *

><p>Max woke the vagrant with a soft word, slipped him a few bills and urged him on his way. With him gone she settled down to wait for Prentiss, or Methos, or both to leave the basement room.<p>

She dug out her phone and started to play a phone rang, she fished it out of her pocket and checked the caller.

Jack appeared on the phone's screen. She groaned.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"Shaddup I can see you're sitting on a sidewalk in skidrow, is this how you spend your leave?"

"You're using a satellite to track me?"

"I'm bored, Carter showed me how to do it." Max made a mental note to have a chat with Carter when she got back.

"Riiiiight and?"

"And you're still in Seacouver, your leave was up at midnight."

"I can't go back yet Jack, Methos –"

"I get that kid but regs are regs –"

She snorted at that, "Jack, how many regs have we bent and broken for a good cause in the past?"

Silence.

"Let me ask you this Holloway are you doing any good there?"

"Maybe." Max said stubbornly.

"You get another week Max then I'll drag you back myself."

"Thanks Jack."

She stared at the phone for a moment before putting it back in her pocket. Methos knew all about the SGC and he knew all about Max's double life. He was the only one she could really talk to about it all. Macleod and Joe knew of it of course but not the details, not the things that really mattered. She felt a yammering panic at the idea of losing her friend and mentor. The man that had risked everything to save her life, the man whose throat she'd once torn out, the man divided against himself and hiding in a basement like a diseased rat. She felt something hot on her cheek and wiped at it. Her hand came away wet.

Tears?

**_A/N ha ha ha ha ha ha! I couldn't help it. Old Maxie hasn't seen daylight in seriously like two years. Anyway if you want some history check out Hostile, the first sequel is super weird, the second less but it's an abandoned WIP. Hostile is complete though. *wanders off huming off key*_**


	3. Stubborn  Headcases

"How long has he been like that?" Prentiss asked Max as the tall agent stepped out of the decrepit building.

Max thought about that.

"Well, it's hard to say. He's not the most sociable, could be he was hiding it for weeks, I doubt that though. If he knew he was…what, cracking? He would have tried to stop it. Then again, maybe he wasn't aware of it." Max frowned and forged on. "He moved into the basement a week or so after you left. He got really bad a month later. Bad enough that we all took notice and couldn't pass it off anymore. I mean, he's _weird_ y'know? Moody, keeps quiet about his plans always has. So at first we figured it was just the geezer being the geezer but… after a while it was clear, even to us, that something was actually wrong." She said and shrugged. They were walking back toward the city center.

"Since then?" Prentiss prompted.

"Well, it's not like you can take an immortal to a shrink, not and have it do any good. First thing they're going to reach for is an extra large double dose of thorazine. Talk therapy doesn't work if you have to lie constantly." Max sighed. Prentiss wondered how Max could be so certain of that.

"Anyway, we've been trying as best we can to talk to him, to get him to calm down. Mac tried to get him to meditate, even took him to some sacred spring. Ironically it was Methos that originally took Macleod there. Anyway, we've all been trying, Joe figures something happened at Carthis that bent his brain, me? I dunno, could be that, could be losing you, could be that he's five fucking thousand years old too." She shrugged.

"I don't really know what happened on Carthis, really I don't." Prentiss said quietly. Max spotted a decent looking coffee shop and lead them to it. She ordered two enormous lattes and pastries. They sat at a table and picked at the food while cradling the warm liquid. Prentiss told Max what she knew of Carthis.

"So, where's Jarod?" Max asked once Prentiss had fallen silent on Carthis.

"I honestly don't know. The Centre was largely defanged but they're still around. Never found Parker or his mother either. I'm sure they got off the island but that's all I know."

"He really stormed the Centre and rescued you?" Max asked admiringly.

Prentiss shook her head.

"I..I honestly think that he went there to tear it down and kill as many of the minds behind it as he could. He found me though, saved me, killed god only knows how many people to do it too."

"I know it's none of my business and feel free to tell me to fuck off –"

"I don't know why I left him."

Thunderous silence.

"Seriously?" Max asked.

"I did then but now, Jesus now it seems so petty."

"Kids." Max said knowingly. Prentiss flinched and lowered her gaze to the pastries on the table. Max leaned back and blew out a breath.

"Well, it's a hell of a sticking point, I agree." Max picked up a berry scone and ate it mechanically.

"We have to-"

"Fix him?" Max asked with a mouthful of scone. She snorted and shook her head.

"Don't think we can. Don't get me wrong we're trying but he needs to sort it himself, only one that can set that brain right is him." She said vehemently.

"You blame him." Prentiss said.

Max scowled. "Yeah, maybe a bit. Is that so weird? It's not deliberate but well he's been a bit of a parent to me. Taught me to stay alive, pulled me through some bad times, helped set my head straight. I'm not sure he's even nuts, y'know? Maybe he's just…like this now. What's normal with a biblical nightmare in your skull?"

Prentiss had a headache. She drank her coffee but ignored the pastries, she'd had the burger and beers what an hour ago? She looked at her watch and realized it would be dawn in a couple hours.

"I can't go back to D.C. with him like this."

"Why not? You don't owe him anything Prentiss, you got your ass in a sling with the Centre for his sake because he was obsessing over Jarod. You're even, we all care about the irascible old fuck, sort of but…well, this is on him. He created this problem the day he decided to lock away part of who he was, part of his soul. He created Death and Death's rage and now that he's facing it it's up to him alone to sort out the mess."

Emily didn't answer for a long while.

"What did he tell you about his arm?" She asked finally.

"He didn't. We ask he gives us a line of bullshit." Max said while taking a gulp of her latte.

"What did he say?" Prentiss asked sharply.

"First he said it was an explosion, toxic chemicals, then it was a burn, then it was some creature that chewed on him."

Prentiss closed her eyes; she could see him lying bleeding and broken next to Morgan on the asphalt of a quiet suburban street. Insisting he was fine while the white bone of his forearm gleamed in the streetlight's orange glow.

"What?" Max asked.

"They were called Sleepwalkers." Prentiss said painfully eyes still clenched shut, holding the image of her broken lover in her mind's eye.

"Sleepwalkers- the creatures? Christ that was true?" Max felt like an asshole, after all the weird shit she'd seen and done…who was she to judge? Still, it's not like anyone would really blame her…

Prentiss nodded and opened her eyes, banishing the image of Methos' broken and bleeding body under the orange light.

"Yeah, yeah they uh, they were Egyptian, or from that area anyway. They eat souls he…he saved our lives, we thought it was a serial killer."

Max was quiet.

"I can't think straight." Prentiss sighed.

"You need to sleep. Come on, you can crash at my place. We'll take a cab, be a treat." Max said abruptly. They left their trash behind. Max dropped a ten on the table and pulled out her phone to call a cab company. Prentiss fell asleep in the cab. Max watched her sleeping and tried to figure out why Methos had fallen for her.

She was attractive though not in any classical way, her features were, not coarse but different. Mouth a little too wide, jaw a touch too square, nose slightly large but somehow it worked. She was also intelligent, observant and tough, Max could see that but what else? What could convince the master of pragmatic survival to fall in love again? Max dismissed the thought and chewed her lip while looking out the window. Her phone rang again. She glanced at the screen as she fished it from her pocket.

"Goddamnit Danny I'm fucking fine, stop calling me –"

"How's Adam?"

Max sighed roughly and ran a hand through her short hair.

"The same."

Silence from Daniel Jackson.

"Look, man, I know you guys are pals but I don't think you'll like the new version. Did you find anything about Carthis?"

She heard Daniel clear his throat, "No, not specifically, I'm still researching, there are some interesting rumors but nothing concrete."

"Does Jack know what you're doing?"

"Uuuh well, not exactly, I mean Jack's not stupid I'm sure he can guess but he hasn't bothered to notice." Daniel said with a smile in his voice.

"Right, because if he noticed he'd have to do something about it. Fair enough. Look I'll call you if anything changes, promisies."

"Shut up Max." Daniel laughed.

"Yeah yeah you call me if you figure out Carthis four eyes."

The line went dead.

The cabbie waited while Max got Prentiss out of the cab and into the house. She showed Prentiss to the guest room then returned to the cabbie. She slipped him a decent tip. As she straightened and stood away from the cab she felt the warning tingle of another of her kind. Her hand slipped behind her waist and under her coat, she started to scan the street and nearby vehicles. Duncan Macleod of the Clan Macloed was standing under a beautiful old oak tree halfway down the block on the opposite side of the street. Max dropped her hand and tossed her head at Mac, chin uplifted in an acknowledgement and greeting.

The lean tall Scot drifted across the street in an easy jog. He approached Max with a friendly smile an expression she reciprocated. They had their differences, several of which would likely never be resolved but at the end of the day they were family. She shook his hand in a warrior's grip and lead him into the house.

"You have a house guest?" He asked quirking an eyebrow. His pan European accented voice made Max feel safe, always had weirdly.

"Yeah, Emily Prentiss."

Macleod blinked slowly and pursed his lips in thought as he followed Max into the house.

"Yeah, _the_ Emily Prentiss. Want a drink?" She asked leading the older immortal into her kitchen. He grunted and she poured them each an orange juice.

"What's she doing here?"

"What do you think?"

"Well, she did choose to leave _him_." He pointed out almost primly.

Max laughed and handed him his orange juice.

"Right, because obviously shacking up with one of us is such a clear cut decision." She snorted.

He grunted and drank the orange juice.

"Training today?" He asked. She glanced at the clock on her wall, thought about catching an hours sleep and dismissed it.

"Sure, what the hell, only live once right?" She asked and flashed a fierce grin at Macleod.

"Full of jokes today, tonight, this morning." He muttered.

"So dour, oh check this out, turns out we're a couple of huge assholes."

"What?" He asked half annoyed half intrigued.

"That bullshit Adam gave us about his arm?" She said holding her half empty glass in one handing and resting the elbow of her opposite arm on her counter while gazing expectantly at Mac.

"What about it?" He sighed.

"Not bullshit, it's true. Prentiss backed it up."

Mac frowned at the empty glass in his hand.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. How do you apologize for that?"

"He wouldn't appreciate an apology anyway."

"True." She admitted.

"Give me ten minutes." Max said finally. He waited in the kitchen while she changed for their workout.

Macleod busied himself rinsing their glasses. His eyes drifted over the bare walls of her house, the dust covers on most of the furniture, skipped over the fridge that he knew only held out of date beer and pickles, the cupboards holding nothing but a film of dust and back to the sink. Max rarely came back to Seacouver anymore, her work at the SGC took up most of her time and interest. Macleod was happy about that, there was something in Max, something hard and ancient and ruthless that could very easily go murderously wrong if it wasn't occupied.

Macleod set the glasses aside to dry.

Max was a good person but Macleod was certain that it wouldn't take much to push her to the other end of the moral spectrum. He sometimes wondered if that potential was what had drawn Methos to her, motivated the ancient to intervene on her behalf with Macleod.

Macleod had taught her the basics, kept her together, kept her safe, while Methos tamed her murder lust and drove home the vital importance of survival, of allies, of passing as fully human, fully _mortal_. Together the men had put her back together, given her a purpose, and a family. And fate had lead her to the SGC and an outlet for her dark side.

Macleod's thoughts were jerked back to the present as Max returned. She was dressed in running shorts and a long sleeved shirt. She flashed him a grin and slipped on running shoes.

"Right, usual track?" She asked. He smiled and nodded. He wrote a note while Max dug around for a water bottle she swore she'd put away the other day.

_Prentiss, Max and I are out on a run, call Max's cell or mine – Macleod_

He wrote their numbers below in case Prentiss didn't have them.

* * *

><p>Prentiss was in the temple on Carthis, the temple where Death showed up to stay and Jarod…what had happened to Jarod? Had he lived? Yes…of course he had, why was she surprised by that? She'd watched him die, watched…watched Methos bring him back? Time jittered, jumped, and locked in place.<p>

She was standing in the temple, the room was frozen, Parker and Jarod's mother crouched behind a sarcophagus. Methos sprawled on the floor, Jarod…engulfed in light. The light was so strong that Prentiss couldn't understand how she could see past it, see Jarod curled in its heart like a sleeping child. She looked back at the women hunkered behind the sarcophagus but they were still frozen.

Her steps made no sound on the stone as she walked toward the light and the man at its center. To her surprise her dream self could _feel_ the light, it was warm and soft as it brushed over her skin she reached toward Jarod but the light resisted her, it was like moving through mud or honey. She struggled to reach him, she opened her hand, strained her fingers to touch his sleeping face, her fingertips touched his cold skin.

His eyes opened revealing all black orbs. She screamed and tried to pull away but the light was burning her, clutching at her, Jarod laughed but it was a cruel amused noise, a sound of sick betrayal and triumph.

* * *

><p>She sat up. Her skin felt hot and sticky, her head buzzed with the familiar signs of an incoming headache and her mouth tasted ashen and sour. She groaned and got up.<p>

A knock at the door drew her attention.

Max was leaning against the door frame, hipshot with her arms folded across her chest. She was wearing clothing similar to the night before, only a dark blue long sleeved shirt with a V-neck and a new pair of jump boots this time.

"Coffee?" she asked.

"God yes." Prentiss croaked.

Max smirked and left Prentiss alone.

"Oh! Shower is down the hall on the left, clean towels are in the cupboard." Max shouted from the hallway.

Prentiss felt human once she was showered and in fresh clothing the steaming coffee waiting for her was the cherry on top.

"How'd you sleep?" Max asked with an amused smile.

"Ugh, like crap."

"Breakfast?" Max offered.

"No thanks I'll be happy with coffee."

"Hmm, right well, here's the deal Agent, I have to leave by the end of the week-"

Prentiss frowned at her.

"I have a job, It won't wait, so we have to sort him out before I leave." Her tone was firm, hard, certain.

Prentiss didn't reply, her thoughts were scattered, torn between the man she'd seen in the basement, the version of him she loved, the dream, and Jarod's inhuman hateful eyes.

"Come on, let's go check on the shithead." Max suggested gently.

"You have a sailor's mouth." Prentiss replied and was surprised by the crack in her voice.

Max grinned at Prentiss, ignoring the threatening tears in the agent's eyes and walked out of the kitchen to retrieve her jacket from the hall closet, to give Prentiss a moment to regain control.

* * *

><p>He was sleeping when they got there, Max frowned as the feel of him swept over her in the hallway, heading down the stairs Max paused with Prentiss behind her and shouted a greeting.<p>

"Go away you bloody harpy." Methos grumbled sleepily. He was sitting on the cot wearing a pair of dark blue boxers, head in his hands, hair disheveled.

"Sleeping late again? Get up you lump you've got company." Max grunted. Prentiss kept one eye on the immortals but scooted over toward the draft table eager to see what Methos may have left out overnight.

The self portrait was still there, it looked finished. Half of the face was still in shadow, she lifted it and examined the other pictures below it. Men on horseback, people wearing desert clothing, a young man with short curly hair and an easy smile, a woman with delicate elfin features, more faces but the further into the stack she went the rawer and angrier the style became until the last few were little more than angry slashes of charcoal across the paper.

"Get off your ass, come on, let's go for a run or get something to eat." Max whined in the most obnoxious tone she could manage. Prentiss looked up and stifled a smile at Methos' pained expression. He looked good, she thought, better than he had since she'd known him. His body was well muscled but not in the taught wiry too-thin way she'd grown familiar with.

"Like the view?" He asked languidly and leered at Prentiss. She blushed and dropped her eyes to the art before scowling and glaring at him in annoyance.

"Stop flirting and put some pants on." Max sighed.

Methos rose and slipped on a worn pair of jeans, ran a hand through his hair and returned to the cot. Max tossed him a pair of socks and a pair of boots, he caught the socks first and ended up catching the boots with his stomach.

"Ooof." He grunted eloquently and sat down on the cot again.. Max grinned unabashedly.

"When are you shipping out soldier girl, I'd've expected your master's voice by now."

Max flinched minutely but kept her grin in place.

"Few days." She said resolutely not looking at Prentiss.

Prentiss filed the slip away. She'd suspected Max was involved with some kind of military force, private or otherwise. An immortal soldier would be one hell of an asset. She didn't understand why Methos would tolerate it though.

"Air Force?" Prentiss asked, a complete shot in the dark.

Max frowned, all mirth gone from her features and body tensed.

"Sort of." She admitted.

Prentiss was surprised, she honestly hadn't expected Max to answer.

"Told you not to get the ink." Methos smirked.

Max thwapped him in the back of the head. He scowled.

"You feeling better now?" Max demanded.

"I'm me, the me I've always been really." He said softly hooded eyes skewering Prentiss.

_He doesn't love me anymore,_ she thought, _or maybe he does but he's so hurt and pissed off it doesn't matter._

She squared her shoulders and smiled at him.

"I guess I should go." She said putting the art down.

"Not yet." Methos said firmly.

"Eh, I can, y'know step out –" Max muttered slinking toward the stairs.

Methos got up, the socks and boots falling to the floor and walked to Prentiss. She was frozen, afraid of what he would say. He took her hands in his. His hands were dry, warm and strong, he clutched her hands, raised them to his chest and smiled.

"Go back to D.C. Emily, they need you. We can talk later." He said simply. She felt almost dizzy with relief. He hadn't ended it, he hadn't begged her to change her mind…he hadn't done anything really. Something felt off, wrong, but she followed Max out of the basement and up into the bleak sunlight of an overcast day.

"What the hell was that?" Prentiss asked.

Max smiled at Prentiss, a wistful expression, and shook her head.

"Not sure, I think he's pawning us off. Could be he's sincere. Certainly seems to have his shit together."

"Right, well, let's give him a couple hours."

"Sure, Joe's?"

"Why not." Prentiss agreed.

They walked again.

* * *

><p>"Are you not fond of cars?"<p>

"I'm not usually here enough to justify having one."

"But you have a house here?"

"Yeah, I spend most of my time in Colorado Springs. Thereabouts anyway."

"You really work for the military?"

Max smiled again and squinted up at Prentiss.

"I can't talk about it, really."

"I have Top Secret clearance." Prentiss did too, it was a holdover from her Interpol days but the FBI kept it current just in case they needed her for a sensitive case. Most of the BAU team had high clearances.

"Not for this you don't, trust me agent."

Prentiss' curiosity was well and truly piqued but she could recognize a firm brushoff.

"Okay, tell you what, if I guess it will you tell me?"

"No." Max said cheerfully.

"You're no fun."

"Treason sorta cramps my style."

"Right."

* * *

><p>Macleod was at Joe's when they got there.<p>

"Don't you have shit to do?" Max sighed dramatically as they entered. The immortal was perched on a stool at the corner of the bar. He raised a slow eyebrow at Max then slipped off the stool and shook Prentiss' hand.

"Agent Prentiss."

"Boyscout?" Prentiss asked with a smile.

"Yeah well, he gets a bit cranky."

"Only because you have those pesky morals Duncan."

"Doesn't stop him from stabbing you, trust me, I know." Max whined.

"You got better." Duncan scoffed in faux annoyance.

"Quit your squabbling you'll frighten away the regulars." Joe grumbled emerging from the door marked private.

"The regular customers or the regular people?" Prentiss asked with a smile.

"There's a difference?" Joe teased. He hooked his cane on the rail of the bar and regarded his odd little family.

"How's he doing?" He asked.

"Well he seems to have made a miraculous recovery overnight." Max said sourly.

"You think he's fucking with us?" Joe challenged. Max shrugged not wanting to weigh in either way. Joe looked at Macleod.

"He might be, could be he's fed up with being fussed over." Duncan admitted.

"I don't think so." Prentiss said with a frown.

"Well, let's ask the expert, Agent?" Duncan said with a trace of bitterness. Prentiss ignored it, if Macleod wanted to blame her for Methos' condition so be it.

"He's masking. I think he's beginning to get a handle on himself but he's not quite there yet."

"Really? You show up and he's magically all better?" Duncan demanded.

"Screw you Macleod, he's five thousand years old, one break-up isn't going to break him. I think locking away an aspect of his personality for damn near three thousand years had _a little more_ to do with it, don't you?"

"I put him back together once. He was a gibbering shell and we cared for him, bathed him, fed him, watched over him –"

"It won't come to that." She said sternly.

"Mac, dude calm the fuck down, she's here to help, Christ man, don't forget she was nearly killed for him, because she loved him and chose to stay with him." Max snapped. A name hung in the air between the immortals and Joe, unvoiced but as present as the bartop between them. _Tessa Noel._

Macleod dropped his eyes to the bar and swallowed hard.

"You're not wrong, I have to go back to D.C. if I hope to have a shred of a chance at keeping my job. Besides I don't think I can help him, not yet, maybe not ever, this is something only he can deal with." She said with a sigh.

Joe studied her.

"Go on then Agent, you've better things to do I'm certain." Joe half growled. Prentiss returned his gaze levelly. Joe dropped it and flushed slightly.

"Please do Mr. Dawson, Macleod, Max thank you." Prentiss's tone was warmer toward Max. The woman followed Prentiss out of the bar.

"You're really going to leave?" Max asked cocking her head like a curious child.

"Yeah, I am. Whatever is going on I can't help him with it, it's up to him and he's made it clear he doesn't want me around."

"Bummer." Max sighed.

"Look, here's my card, why don't you give me a call before you go back to work?" Prentiss asked offering one of her Bureau issued cards to Max.

Max studied it, crisp and white, the Bureau's seal bright in the dim overcast light and finally took it. She read it carefully and glanced up at Prentiss.

"What the hell, why not. Knowing a fed could be handy."

"Ha yeah well, I'm on thin rapidly melting ice so don't expect too many favors." Prentiss laughed.


	4. A Certain Unpleasantness

He was drawing again, Death liked to draw, he liked to remember things that way, to savor the experience. These drawings were far different from those that Prentiss had seen, those were his tamer works. These, well, he could almost hear the distant din of screams, taste the smoke and blood on his tongue, the stink of _fear. _He sat up slightly and shifted on his seat easing a cramped muscle, then let out a tittering giggle and bent back to his work.

He paused in his drawing, his aborted stroke frozen, his hand shot across the paper with such force and speed that it tore the paper and broke the charcoal. He let out a snarl and threw the charcoal down, he rose to his feet and started to pace.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, YOU HAD YOUR TURN! No!" He snarled voice frantic, gestures frenetic as he paced. He tittered again and turned on his heel walked out the door leaving it open behind him.

* * *

><p>Max's phone buzzed against her hip. She was drinking a coke through a straw watching the lunch crowd from the corner stool at Joe's. She pulled her straw from the glass and chewed it absently as she reached for her phone.<p>

She ran her thumb across its screen waking it from sleep mode and examined the message. She hopped to her feet and slipped it into her back pocket.

"Hey, Joe, I'm out." She called still clenching the straw between her teeth. Joe waved an absent hand at her in acknowledgment. She turned on her heel and left the bar. She walked calmly for half a block then broke into a jog. She'd left a proximity sensor on Methos' door, if anyone entered or left the sensor was set up to text her phone. Odds were it was Macleod stopping in for a chat…

She picked up her pace as the sidewalk traffic died down and was soon running flat out to the building. She didn't feel Methos' as she drew closer, she felt a spike of adrenaline ripple through her and with it the cold glee she rarely acknowledged, the monkey on her back, her murder lust.

Max slowed down and slipped into the building by a back entrance she'd scouted days before. She carefully made her way down to Methos' den. It was her first opportunity to snoop in days. She hadn't thought to do it before because she didn't she'd find anything. The old guy was off his rocker not hiding anything, but after his weird behavior with Prentiss she wasn't so sure anymore.

The drawers held nothing but clothing and oddments, a few books, pens a couple CDs so on. Under the bed was empty, there was nothing under the mattress or the pillows, nothing hidden in the pillow cases. Max conducted a swift but through examination of every nook and cranny in the large basement area then turned her attention to the desk.

She felt her stomach lurch when she examined the drawings. Max had seen a few battles in her short life, participated in more and killed many people but even she was nauseated by the stark patiently rendered carnage on the pages.

"Thank god it's black and white." She whispered hoarsely then wondered if that was really a blessing, maybe color would wash out some of the more…accurate details. She stepped forward to get a closer look and felt something shift underfoot. She glanced under the desk and spotted the drawing Methos' had ruined before storming off. She knelt and picked it up.

"You're fighting back." She said after a half minute of studying the page. She folded it up and slipped it into the inside pocket of her jacket. She adjusted the garment and rand her hand behind her back and under the jacket insuring the asp sword hybrid was still firmly sheathed against her spine. It was habit, she would know immediately if it wasn't.

Satisfied she turned to leave and felt Methos' presence wash over her. She darted up the steps praying that he wasn't shielding his quickening and she had more time than average to avoid him or play innocent. Instinct told her he would be upset if he found she'd stolen the picture. If he'd wanted those works seen they would have been on the desk when Max and Prentiss had visited.

She nearly slipped at the threshold but caught her balance. She closed the door and hurried to the rear exit. As she slipped through she heard the stiff front door pop open and the familiar tread of her friend. Max carefully closed the rear door then circled around to the front and entered.

Methos would have felt her, known an immortal was nearby, if she went back to the bar he'd be suspicious. All of them had been bugging him daily, if she came by but didn't wait for him to come back or make an effort to see him his suspicions would be heightened. She took a deep breath, ran a hand through her hair and opened the door.

Forcing her voice to sound like it's cheerful bantering norm she shouted a greeting.

"You up lazy bones? A beautiful day and icy cold beers await!"

"You really should learn to knock someday." Methos growled. It wasn't his normal mildly annoyed snarl that usually conjured an image of a bored hot male lion being plagued by a duo of cubs, it was hard, mean.

"Did ums have a pea under his mattress?" She asked mildly as she finished walking down the steps. Max tried to get a look at the room to see if she'd left any sign of her intrusion.

"I have a headache Max, what do you want?" Methos sighed. He was sitting on his cot, apparently in the midst of removing his boots when she'd walked in.

"Beer." She insisted solemnly.

"Why do you keep coming here?"

"That's a stupid fucking question." She shot back with real hurt in her voice.

He looked at her with hooded cold eyes, a mean smile on his lips.

"Why?" He demanded contemptuously.

"For the same reason you didn't let me rot in the basement of the SGC when that bitch had a grip on my skull, the same reason you faked your death, the same reason you faced her alone in the UK, because we're family you fucker and you _clearly_ aren't playing with a full deck anymore. So I'm not going to stop bugging you and if I could I strap your ass down and sort your brain myself but I can't. That bits up to you, so stop acting hard and mean and get your shit together." She snarled.

He stared at her long and hard. She noted the way his hand flexed on his leg, itching for his sword? Wanting to hit her? Nervous.

"If you want to come at me, come at me, but remember _you_ taught me, I'm the best student you've had in centuries and I won't go down easy, you'll probably win, sure. _Probably_ but it's not certain so unless you're willing to risk your life over a bullshit fight back off." She hissed hand straying behind her hip, fingers itching for her sword.

He chuckled, low, languorous and somehow sour. The sound of it made her skin crawl.

"Get out." He grunted spitefully and slipped his boots off. Max realized that she was shaking, humming with adrenaline, but the pleasing coolness, the calculated killer within wasn't surfacing, wasn't straining for action. Instead she felt like the unwanted, helpless, child-woman she'd been before her murder. She felt, exposed and horrifically weak before his contempt.

She fled.

* * *

><p>Methos watched her leave, he wanted to feel satisfaction, wanted to taste the thrill of victory but it was dull…like biting into bread and finding it stale and crusty and not fresh from the oven as promised. He was suddenly angry, enraged, he rose and cleared his desk with one strong sweep then turned on his books, throwing them, tearing pages free, he pulled the dressers down enjoyed the way the cheap construction exploded as it hit the cement floor and vomited its contents into the dank basement. He raged, he screamed and lifted the desk from the floor and hurled it against the wall gaining some small enjoyment from the sound it made as it disintegrated. He howled, shrieked, and roared until his throat was itchy with healing over battered tissue and then he sagged to his knees and beheld his empire of destruction.<p>

There was no joy, no thrill, only dull disappointment.

"Stop it you fuck, you dirty greedy fuck, you _had your turn."_ He gasped chest heaving, sweat running down his face. His hands were bloodied, the cuts and scrapes healed but the blood lingering, drying and caking.

"You had your turn." he said brokenly.

* * *

><p>Max ran from Methos' building, ran and kept running, ran until her lungs burned ran until the buildings were single story strip malls, ran until her legs ached and burned, her feet throbbed, ran until she was numb below the waist, ran until time lost meaning, ran until her vision dimmed and narrowed to points, ran into the darkness.<p>

A distant whirring noise woke her. She tried to think of what it could be. An alarm? No, it wasn't loud enough, a toy? Of course not she was far too old for toys. Her phone?

Her eyes fluttered open, light, neon bright and hard stabbed at her. She raised her right arm to shield her face and tried to focus. The noise came again. She scrabbled at her coat trying to think what pocket her phone was in, unwilling to lower her arm and bring the light back. The buzzing and whirring continued. She closed her eyes dropped her arm and rolled onto her side. She scrabbled at her pockets with one hand and managed to hook her phone.

She brought it to her face and stared at it blearily. The time was wrong had to be. She grunted and sat up. Wiped at her face and looked at the phone again.

She'd lost a day. She blinked and frowned. She had three voicemails and two texts waiting. She ignored them, put the phone back in her pocket. Max tried to get up but found, that for the first time in ten odd years, she was incredibly sore and her stiff limbs were nearly refusing to do her bidding.

She took her time getting up and once up vowed she would only sit down again if there were someone on hand to help her broken ass get up again.

She was in an overgrown ditch, knee high grass surrounded her. She imagined that once she'd fallen her body had been hidden by it. Just as well, whether she'd been dead or unconscious when the darkness took her there'd be awkward explanations regardless. She shook her head and limped stiffly out of the ditch and up onto the shoulder of the road.

"Where are you dumbass?" She muttered staring up the two lane road first one direction then the other. No street signs.

She slipped her phone out and checked it's battery charge. Half full, though it would lie sometimes. She thumbed over to the GPS and tapped in the address of Joe's bar and hit route.

Max let out an impressed cackle. She'd run her ass right out of the city and well into suburbia. A quiet underdeveloped branch of it anyway. She thumbed over the phone pad and dialed Joe's bar.

"Joe's." A gruff baritone answered.

"Mike, is Joe there?"

"Where the _fuck_ have you been Max? Some army dude was in here asking after you –"

"Where. Is. Joe. Mike?" She asked impatiently.

"In the back."

"Go get him, my phone doesn't have much charge."

She heard the sound of the receiver being laid down, bar noise and after an eternity Joe's sour worried greeting.

"Where are you and what the hell happened between you and Adam?" He grumbled.

"You're not going to believe me." She sighed with a half laugh.

* * *

><p>Methos looked at the artwork scattered before him. He analyzed the precision and skill of the renderings, the way light and shadow combined for effect, the depraved details even the small touches that proved to him they were renderings of true recall. He wanted to feel sick, wanted to rage, he wanted most of all to deny that he was the twisted soul that had created them, both in the flesh and gore of reality and again here on comparatively sterile paper.<p>

His fingers were blackened with charcoal dust and blood, nails caked with it, streaks of it on his face. His eyes were hot and fevered, skin pale. The pages were filled from edge to edge with the dark images Death so loved, front side and backside. He'd run out of paper and started to draw on the floors and walls, he'd run out of charcoal and started to use his own blood until he'd grown tired, like a child filled with too many sweets…he'd thrown a tantrum, destroying anything left standing from his first fit and falling asleep.

He'd woken feeling…calm, even, human, he couldn't feel Death's eager clamoring for chaos. He didn't feel Death at all. Before he'd let his better half out of his cage for good, thanks to the events in the temple, he had felt Death constantly without realizing what it was. A dull thrumming pressure in his system that had occurred and strengthened so subtly over all the long cold years of his existence that by the time he realized it was there it was nearly overwhelming.

Then Death had gone free. Now…he didn't feel the hot hum of Death locked again in his former prison, didn't feel the sour clamoring need in his skull. Had he actually left? Or had Methos somehow managed to overwhelm and incorporate the miserable fuck?

He was too tired to think about it. He levered himself upright and began to collect the disturbing artwork. Carelessly smudging the lines and details as he handled them. He stacked them in a patch of clear ground took one last long look at the room. Then turned and walked away.

* * *

><p>Max was shivering and footsore, lurching along like a bad imitation of Frankenstein's monster when Joe's sedan stopped beside her.<p>

"I fucking love you man." She sighed leaning into his window and smiling wearily at him.

"Get in you damn fool." Joe said affectionately. She half fell into the passenger seat and let out a pained but pleased groan and managed to get the door shut.

"So?"

"What?" She shot back.

"Why the hell are you out here without a ride?"

"I ran out here, I told you."

"Seriously." He pressed.

"Seriously!" She growled.

"You ran out here?"

She ignored him.

"You _are_ fuckin' nuts."


	5. Blood

Jack O'Neill was sitting on Max's couch drinking a flat beer and pondering how he would gain vengeance on her for the hassle he was currently enjoying on her behalf.

He genuinely liked Max, and as a combat officer, realized her value. Max had gone out of her way to make sure he was well aware of her uses even to the point of wild insubordination. As a cheerfully insubordinate soldier himself Jack tried not to hold it against her. _Tried_.

Usually he succeeded; she was, after all, a special case. Getting Max Holloway to obey regs was about as time consuming and useful as herding cats. Though, he'd found, when things truly mattered she would toe the line and shut her mouth.

Then there were times like this, when she seemed to have decided that her oath of enlistment was a mutable and inconsequential detail that she was free to ignore as she liked.

He sighed and scrubbed at his face wearily. He heard a car engine outside and got to his feet. He slipped into the kitchen and twitched a curtain aside peering out.

A low slung average silver sedan had pulled up out front. Jack frowned, he couldn't really see who was in it, the driver had gotten out and the passenger was slumped in its seat. As Jack watched Joe Dawson lurched into view. Jack watched long enough to see that the slumped figure was his wayward airman.

With a grunt and a muttered, "Crap." Jack dropped the curtain and hurried outside.

Joe was bent over Max apparently trying to undo her seat belt.

"Need a hand?" Jack asked.

Joe looked up in surprise.

"Thought you went back to Colorado?" He asked suspiciously.

"Empty handed?" Jack shot back in a friendly tone.

Joe kept Jack's gaze then grunted and stepped away from the passenger's seat as Jack walked around the front of the car to meet him.

"Dead?" Jack asked Dawson.

"Er, no asleep." Joe explained. Jack quirked his eyebrow and pursed his lips.

"Riiiight."

"Long story, you can try to wake her up if you like but you might have better luck if she were dead." Joe grunted.

"Let me just try..." Jack said and slugged Max in the jaw. The immortal squalled like a scalded cat, sat bolt upright and tried to scuttle away from the assault. Jack snatched at the collar of her shirt and kept her from ending up in the driver's seat.

"Good morning Airman." Jack growled.

Max stared at him for half a heartbeat as her battered skull sorted out facts and events and then scowled at him.

"You're AWOL, _again_." Jack said coldly.

"Jack-"

O'Neill stabbed at the seatbelt release by her hip and hauled her out of the car. No mean-feat, for all her short stature she was packing more muscle and dense bone than most men a foot past her height.

He pressed her back to the car fist still wrapped in her shirt.

"Hey man –" Joe snapped.

"It's alright Joe." Max said evenly, she was trying to stare Jack down. After a few seconds it was her green eyes that dropped down and away from his hard angry eyes.

"Jack-"

"That's Colonel, Holloway."

She swallowed and forced herself to meet his eyes.

"I have one question for you Holloway, I'm taking you back to the SGC and I want your answer when we get there, why did you join the SGC? Now pack your shit, if you aren't out here in five minutes I'll shoot you and drag you back in a body bag." He snapped crisply. She pulled free of his grip, shot him a sullen look and turned to limp into the house.

"Christ O'Neill what the hell was that?" Joe demanded.

"You were a Marine Dawson, how would you treat a deserter?" Jack asked quietly. His fury was gone, replaced by a dull annoyed resignation.

"Deserter?" Joe scoffed. Jack nodded.

"She's almost two weeks overdue returning from leave."

"You knew she was coming here because –"

"Adam flipped his lid. I know but she has to make a choice, her duty or her life here."

"Would you choose between Sam, or Teal'c and your duty? Between Jackson and your _duty_?" Joe shot back.

"There are always exceptions dictated by circumstances Dawson, but with Max there's nothing _but_ exceptions. I can't keep her at the SGC if she isn't dedicated and willing to at least attempt to obey orders."

Joe opened his mouth to argue, Max's front door slammed open and Max, dirty, battered, and still limping, slowly made her way to the men. She put a set of keys into Dawson's hand and kissed him on the cheek.

"Sell it Joe, put the money in your bar, consider me a silent partner." She said hoarsely. Joe looked at her, long and hard and then at Jack. Finally he nodded and shook Max's hand.

"What about Adam?"

"Prentiss was right, I don't think we can do much for him, keep other immortals off his ass and be there if he reaches out. S'about it."

"Keep in touch Max, I mean it."

"I will, promisies, tell Mac…shit I dunno just…let him know I'm okay alright? I don't want him showing up in Colorado Springs to rescue me."

Joe chuckled.

"I'll take care him."

"Yeah, take care of yourself too." She said warmly. She looked at Jack. The angry Colonel jerked his chin toward an open top jeep parked across the street. She slung her bag over her shoulder and limped toward it.

"Watch your ass Colonel, Max has a few big brothers that might not take so kindly to this."

"Who? Macleod is a hot head but he's got more sense than Adam or Max credit him with and Adam is too busy eating paste from what I hear."

"Yeah but there's still me and Richie."

"Richie?" Jack asked suspiciously.

"He makes himself scarce."

"You want me to worry about a man named Richie?" Jack asked again.

Joe shrugged.

Jack offered the old marine his hand, Joe shook it.

"Richie huh?"

Joe smiled.

* * *

><p>Macleod went by Joe's after his last evening class. The bar wasn't opened for the evening crowd yet so he knocked and waited. Joe opened the door himself.<p>

"Adam's gone." Macleod announced eyes darting around the dim bar.

"We're alone." Joe assured his friend.

"The basement is empty, he broke everything, all that's left are these." He said drawing a bundle of the horrific drawings out of his jacket.

Joe took his time studying them, he looked pale and old as he pushed them across the bar to the Scot. Macleod noted Joe's hand shook slightly.

"Jesus." Joe breathed and reached under the bar for two glasses. He turned from Macleod and fished behind the display bottles of liquor for his personal bottle. He found it and poured them both a solid drink. Joe downed it and waited for Macleod to catch up.

"What do you think?" Joe asked.

"I'm not sure, if he's drawing this, then maybe he won't do it."

"Those are memories." Joe said with certainty.

"Yeah, I think so too." Macleod admitted.

"You're sure he's gone?"

Macleod nodded.

"I'll put word out, quietly." Joe sighed.

"Good, let me know if he turns up."

"Sure."

"Where's Max? I went by her place –"

"Went back home." Joe said.

"Did she?" Macleod said sounding interested but not surprised.

"Well, Jack showed up looking for her kinda grabbed her by the scruff of her neck and hauled her back."

"AWOL?"

"Again."

* * *

><p>Methos watched her. She looked tired, fingernails were chewed and ragged, she checked her phone with neurotic frequency, twitched and twisted at loud noises. She acted as though she were being hunted. Of course she <em>was<em>, by him, but he thought he could smell another, catch a glimpse, a slight taste on the wind of another hunter.

He watched her buy two lattes and sit at a nearly deserted iron wrought table. Foot traffic died down and still she sat. He grew cold, felt distant hunger pangs but still she sat. Wind picked up cool and scented with the stink of the city. He slipped down from his perch and crept closer to her.

Was she waiting for him? Had she sensed him? Was his presence putting her on edge or was it the other? He crouched on his heels in a nearby bush and considered rising, walking to her, taking her in his arms. He bit his lip and glanced around the empty park.

Footsteps drew his attention he settled back on his heels waiting to see who would arrive. The steps were soft, careful, like a man in a hurry that didn't want to be noticed right away, the way Methos walked at times. Subconsciously noting the similarity he shifted until he was in a proper stance to rush forward and protect Prentiss if he had to.

The hunter showed his spots so speak, seconds later. He was tall, short graying hair in a nearly military cut hard but handsome features, a day's growth of beard. Prentiss tensed as she saw him but didn't rise from her spot. He sat across from her. Smiled at the coffee and leaned back ever so slightly.

They spoke in low voices Prentiss looked hard, determined, savage almost. He tried to read her lips but she was speaking from low in her throat, the movement of lips and jaws minimized. It was a trick used by trained personnel concerned about surveillance. Methos watched the stranger, he didn't mimic Prentiss' caution.

Methos caught the word family, and something about a bullet. Blood boiling he forced himself to stay still. Prentiss had set up this meeting that was clear; he would hold off on interfering, it was her call. Besides he wasn't sure just how she'd react to him. So he watched.

They wrapped up their conversation, Prentiss waited a few seconds before rising and slipping her weapon into its holster then throwing away the coffees. He wanted to go to her, to hold her in his arms, to make her feel safe but he hesitated. By the time he'd banished his fears she was past him and hailing a cab.

"Fool." He snarled to himself and slipped out of the shrubbery. He tried to pick up the stranger's trail but the man was a ghost. Frustrated and cold he moved to a busier part of the city hoping for a cab. He found his feet taking him toward Prentiss' apartment building. He broke into a nearby apartment building and made his way to the roof – as he had for the last week – and watched her window.

She'd gotten a black cat a few weeks ago. He didn't see it now but Prentiss had likely been home for an hour or so, the little animal was probably curled up with her in bed. He felt a sour jealousy at that and nearly laughed out loud.

_Coward, go to her_. He squashed the thought and tried to shift to a more comfortable position. He would, in time. Until the last three weeks she had been happy, working cases with her team, using what free time she had to spend time with J.J. – Methos had been enraged by her transfer, couldn't understand why it had been approved – or Garcia or attempting to go on infrequent blind dates.

Methos, well the part of himself that he was just coming to grips with, had initially been enraged that she was dating but now, he was resigned to it. That didn't mean he was going to leave her unprotected and now that this new threat had become apparent he was glad he'd _stalked her_ hung around.

He ground his teeth and moved away from the roof back down to the street. He wanted to knock on her door, to look into her dark eyes and hold her. But it was nearly two in the morning…

* * *

><p>Prentiss woke feeling edgy, sour, and rushed. Fear drove her to her feet and into the shower, fear of Doyle, fear for her Interpol team, fear that Doyle had decided to target her family, the BAU. Fear that she would fail and he would win.<p>

She dressed and ate breakfast robotically and took the subway out to the BAU. The sense of being watched lingered until she passed through the gates onto Quantico.

Methos stood near the gate. Whatever was going on Prentiss hadn't involved the BAU. Why? Was the stranger threatening to hurt them? Were their hands tied by jurisdictional issues? Was Prentiss trying to hide the situation to avoid prosecution? He realized he was flexing his hands into fists. Frustrated he turned on his heel and left.

"Emily that is totally your super-hot-foreign-kinda-nutso-ex!" Garcia squeaked.

"Great. World's oldest stalker." Prentiss breathed with a groan.

"You want me to tell Hotch?"

"No, I'll handle it."

"But Emily he could be dangerous –"

"No, he _is_ dangerous Garcia but he won't hurt me." She was almost sure of that.

"Emily is this what's been bothering you lately?"

Prentiss laughed, "No, Garcia I haven't been sleeping well."

* * *

><p>Methos was waiting at Prentiss' subway stop that evening, he slipped into the familiar rhythm of following her, keeping his attention only partly on her, focusing more on catching anyone else hunting her, anyone that could explain who the stranger was and why he was after Prentiss.<p>

That, he reasoned, was why she'd gotten the drop on him.

She went around a corner, presumably to use the ladies' room. When he rounded the corner after her – thinking one of the stranger's goons might try something with her out of sight – he wound up with her pistol jammed into his guts.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She asked pulling him into the women's restroom. It was empty, she kept the gun on him and gestured for him to block the door. He wedge a trash receptacle under the handle and faced her.

"Explain yourself." She snapped.

"I was worried about you."

"How long have you been following me?"

"A couple weeks." He lied easily.

"Liar." She spat and shot him in the right hip.

He let out a strangled scream as his right leg failed and he fell.

"How long!" She snarled.

"A little over a month." He gasped as the agony deepened and then leveled off.

"Get up." He tried but the ruined joint in his hip wouldn't support him.

"Who else is after you Emily? The man in the park who was he?"

"His name is Ian Doyle, he's an ex-IRA gun runner, I put him away when I was in Interpol, he's out for revenge." She said evenly.

His thoughts spun.

"Let me help you." He insisted and tried to stand again. This time his hip held him.

"I don't know who you are anymore." She sounded almost sad, almost.

"Let me do this for you Emily."

"Do what Methos? Kill Doyle? What then? This is between him and me."

"Why haven't you brought your team in? Huh?" He asked gritting his teeth as his quickening chewed through the damage to his leg.

"Because Doyle is targeting my Interpol team's families."

"And your team is your family." He said with a sigh.

She slipped the gun into its holster.

"Stop following me." She snapped and moved the trash can away from the door. He moved behind her, catching her in an embrace. Held her to his chest, breathed in her ear.

She fought him, tried to elbow him in the solar plexus but he writhed away from the blow and held her tight.

"I love you." He whispered and felt her soften in his embrace. He released her, she turned, faced him, tears in her eyes.

"I do, I love you, I don't know if you can love me again but please, please let me help you with this much at least." He begged her.

She kissed him. He pulled her close, buried his hands in her hair as he held her. She pulled him close ran her hands along his shoulders and back. Felt a fire for him in her belly and moving lower, felt him harden against her hip.

She opened her eyes and stared into his changeling hazel eyes. She pushed him backwards into a stall pinned him against the wall and kissed him again.

"Not here." He breathed hoarsely breaking the kiss. They heard the door to the bathroom open and someone let out a cry at the blood smeared on the tiles. They listened to the woman flee and slipped out. Prentiss walked in front of Methos, hiding his blood.

She hailed a cab for the two blocks to her apartment. They behaved on the ride both intent on spotting Doyle's goons. Prentiss lead him into her apartment, her cat wound between her feet making pathetic hungry noises. Methos scooped it up and scratched its chin.

"He likes you." She said with a smile.

"He's got good taste." Methos said with a touch of his old humor. He set the cat down and pulled her close.

She pushed him back, through the large apartment and into her Spartan bedroom, he tripped and fell backwards as the bed smacked him in the back of the knees. A lingering soreness in his gunshot hip drew a hiss of pain from him.

Prentiss hesitated, suddenly afraid of hurting him. He sat up and took her hands in his, pulled her close and kissed her tenderly.

"I'd've shot me too." He murmured with a smile. She laughed against his lips and he tasted a tear. He held her face in his, the room was filled with the faint light from the street below. He studied her shadowed face and wondered how he had told her to go in Seacouver. It had been the right choice then, he knew that, but how had he managed it?

She slipped her hands under his shirt and found it matted to his stomach with sticky drying blood she froze. He took her wrists and kissed her bloodied fingers. He sat up and peeled the shirt off pulling it over his head and letting it drop to the floor. She stared at his chest and stomach in the diffuse light, the blood looking black, she could smell it thick in her nostrils.

"Should clean you up." She said finally.

He rose with a strange muscular grace, picked her up and going on his best guess which happened to be right carried her into the large bathroom complete with spa bath. He set her on her feet and turned on the hot water for the tub.

Slowly, savoring their closeness they undressed each other. Methos slipped her holster off her shoulder and carefully unclasped the buttons of her blood smeared blouse. She slipped his belt off, as he gently slid the blouse from her shoulders.

The water filled the room with steam, Prentiss turned off the flow and stepped into the delicious heat, she picked up a washcloth and looked up at Methos, blood smeared, exhausted by days of ceaseless guard duty he stared down at her and smiled.

The expression washed away the lines of tension and exhaustion in his face, brought back his humor, eyes sparkling he slipped into the water with her. It pinked instantly as his blood slipped away from his skin. She leaned forward and ran the damp cloth over his chest and throat.

He jerked her into his arms, pinned her arms against his chest and kissed her ferociously. She resisted for a heartbeat, then melted against him and kissed him back just as hard. She pushed him against the rim of the tub and broke away from the kiss.

She opened her mouth as though to speak, to question, he studied her face, lifted his hand from the steaming bloody water and gently traced her cheek and jaw.

"We can have this much at least." He whispered.

There was still a chasm between them, one they may never cross but for this moment, this evening, it didn't have to matter.

She kissed him.


	6. Combat & Other Recreational Activities

Jack was doing paperwork in Sam's lab. He had been doing it on Daniel's office but had been chased out after a few hours. Teal'c didn't have an office and when Jack tried to con him into mischief the big Jaffa had muttered something about Kel-no-reem and slipped away. So, Jack was resigned to hanging out in Sam's lab and actually getting some work done.

"Hey give me some EPR bullets for Max." Jack grunted at Sam.

"Uhm, how about 'helped save the planet'."

"Nah, I already used that."

Sam looked up from her computer, a graph charting exotic radiation readings scrawled past on a continuous loop.

"Seriously?" She asked with a smirk.

"Yep." He said firmly staring at the pile of paper. He was doing it with a pencil. At some point he'd been assigned an aide/secretary to assist with his paperwork but it had proved somewhat fruitless. Now, he submitted his paperwork and before anyone else ever saw it a trained and cleared Master Sergeant 'fixed' it, which usually amounted to rewriting it, inputting it in to the digital system and tracking Jack down at some point to approve the final results.

"Right." Sam smiled and returned to her work.

"D'yeah think I was too hard on her?"

"What? Giving her two months of CC?" She asked absently.

"Yeah."

"Corrective Custody is meant to act as a warning, most other C.O.s probably would have given her an article fifteen."

"Sure but most don't get the joy of working with a mentally unstable super soldier with a loose concept of duty." Jack sighed dramatically.

"Stop bragging." Sam muttered.

He did have an obscure sense of pride in Max. She was an excellent soldier and warrior when the time called for it, it was just that the rest of the time she was almost more trouble than she was worth, _almost_.

"When does she get back?" Sam asked making a note of some digits on the graph.

"Tomorrow."

"Think she'll be glad to be back?"

"Dunno, probably, I'm not sure what they had her doing."

"I remember seeing some CC airmen at one of my training bases. A lot of community service work."

"Great she'll be bored out of her mind." Jack groaned.

* * *

><p>Max wiped sweat from her eyes and glanced up at the sun to check the time. Three hours before sunset. She shifted the pack on her back and looked over her shoulder. Two plumes of dust signaled the location of her pursuers. She sighed and slipped down the face of the sand dune and started to jog again.<p>

When Jack had assigned her to CC as punishment for going AWOL she'd never expected that she would be asked to field test the SGC's new extreme temperature survival suite.

Still, it made sense she guessed. At least until what she guessed were rogue NID agents had tried to take the equipment from her, after killing the research team of course. She guessed that the whole thing was going to be made to look like her fault. The fragile high strung immortal finally loses it, slaughters a team of SGC researchers and runs into the desert, never seen again.

"Fail." She rasped out loud.

The gear reminded her strongly of the Stil-suits she'd read bout in _Dune_. She guessed the SGC researchers had been inspired by it, why not? The concept was sound enough. Gross but hey Corrective Custody wasn't supposed to be fun.

The suit was okay at reclaiming her sweat but not great. She'd still needed outside sources of water and after the first week even her provided supplies had run out. Now she relied on her reservoir of recycled fluid – slightly salty now – and what she could forage. The NID team had been in hot pursuit for three days. She couldn't keep up her current pace and hope to get out alive. She had less than a day of water left at this rate. She had to lose them, convince them she was dead and the equipment was gone for good or kill them herself.

She didn't have any obvious weapons. Her sword was in her quarters at the SGC, even her back up ASP blade had been taken away. She was, after all, technically a prisoner. She had a small knife which was better than nothing but it was more tool than weapon. Besides she's seen her pursuers, they were armed with M4s and some kind of submachine guns she didn't recognize.

So, face to face combat would be suicide and the NID would get the gear and her, she was certain they would love to figure her out. So she ran.

As the sun started to vanish below the horizon she paused and climbed a small sandstone formation to get a line on the NID forces. She spotted them two miles away, they appeared to be making camp but she doubted that. It was probably a decoy, likely they'd sent teams equipped with night-vision gear to come after her. She sighed and slipped back down to the desert floor. She sucked her lower lip thoughtfully.

If they were sending teams after her in the dark, then they'd be on foot, engines would be too loud and her day's journey had brought her into an area of broken rock and low time worn mountainous hills. No, they'd be on foot if they tried to come in with engines she'd slip into the rocks and they'd lose her. So, teams on foot.

She grinned and reached for her blade, it would have to do.

There were two teams, she could smell the hot plastic and rubber of their gear on the wind. Two weeks in the desert – largely alone – had sharpened her senses. She slipped down to the desert floor and found the nearest team. Five armed personnel it looked like three women and two men. She hunkered in a shadow above their line of sight and studied them.

They were good, worse, they were a good _team_, they clearly hadn't just been thrown together for one mission. They moved as a unit had likely fought or at least trained together.

She sighed and moved up higher, her foot slipped knocking a soft hissing trail of gravel and sand loose. The quintet faced her and opened fire. Max managed to avoid being hit but was effectively treed. She cursed and tried to think.

Surrender? Maybe, if they didn't know what she was then she could turn on them or 'die' and come after them, then again if they did – and if they _were_ NID they would – then it could be a terrible error.

No, she would fight. She carefully moved further up the hill and away from the team, allowing her starlight adjusted eyes to scan for movement. She thought about their night vision and grinned. She had matches in her suit, she fished into the tight pocket and managed to get the packet of light anywhere matches out, nearly dropped them, and then moved back to the edge. The team had slipped into a single file formation and were trying to climb the rock formation to follow Max. Max grinned and moved closer, she clenched her blade between her teeth.

Max carefully crept as close to the quintet as she dared, then as the point man drew close enough that Max could see the starlight reflecting from his NVGs she lit the match and threw it at his face. The lead screamed in pain jerked his goggles off and staggered backwards. To Max's disappointment the team were spaced out enough that the lead's flailing didn't send the lot of them tumbling off the rock formation and to their messy deaths.

He did however cause enough of a ruckus that Max managed to filch his back up weapon and stab him in the throat before the team was really aware of what was going on. As his lifeless body pinwheeled backwards down the steeply inclined path crashing into his team Max knelt and carefully opened fire. She dropped the next two NID agents with careful headshots then settled for body mass shots on the rest. It was possible they weren't killing shots but she didn't dare let any of them fire back at her. She slipped back up the path and waited for pursuit or the arrival of the second team she'd scented before.

Silence reigned for a good ten minutes. She checked the clip on her stolen sidearm, empty, one in the chamber. Grunting in annoyance she slipped back down the trail. The weapons weren't silenced and noise traveled for miles in the crisp desert night air she expected the other team would arrive literally any minute now.

She did a quick check of the team – all dead to her surprise – replenished her water supply from their back up supplies and armed herself adequately. It was tempting to take every weapon and scrap of ammo she could but her one asset was being able to move fast and quiet. So she settled for an M4 and as much ammunition as she could carry and still keep quiet and maintain a decent pace.

Max grinned at the swollen yellow moon fresh and sharp in the night air and set out to find new playmates.

* * *

><p>Methos slept late in spite of himself. Emily had called in sick to the BAU. Considering her behavior lately her call reassured her friends rather than alarming them. They naturally assumed that she'd been fighting a bug and had succumbed at long last. Hotch ordered her to stay home until she felt better.<p>

As Methos woke she lay asleep in his arms. His bladder warned him in no uncertain terms that he _would_ have to move shortly. Methos wanted to stay there, warm, rested, with her in his arms for the rest of eternity. Instead he stifled a sigh and carefully slipped out of the bed and into the restroom.

The sound of the front door splintering woke Emily. She slipped out of the bed and snatched up her sidearm from the bedside table. Methos, naked as a jay, slipped out of the restroom and hurried back to Prentiss as he entered the bedroom shot rang out from the front door.

He gasped staggered, caught his balance and hurried to Prentiss' side crouching behind the bed next to her.

"Shit you're hit." Prentiss said. Blood welled out of a wound his shoulder.

"I'll be fine, keep your eyes on the doorway." He said and slipped over the bed, he put one shoulder against the wall and crept forward until he could get a look down the hall. Another shot rang out as he peered out. He jerked his face back.

"Two gun men." He reported. She nodded and reached for her phone. She wasn't surprised that the landline was down. She tried her cell and managed to dial and connect to 911 before the signal was jammed.

"They're good." She growled.

"Mediocre, they should've jammed your phone before they blew the door and their aim is shite." He hissed.

"I have a back up weapon in the safe, here." She said and tossed her weapon to him. He automatically checked the chamber and clip and thumbed the safety off. Prentiss rose, dressed quickly in jeans, a sweatshirt, and boots and crouched at the safe she quickly ran through the combination and pulled a second weapon and a thick file free. She took over covering the hallway while Methos dressed. Prentiss had kept some of his clothes, unwilling to throw them out when the relationship appeared to end. Now he was grateful for her nostalgia, though surprised at how tight the sweater felt. It was still loose by most standards but tight for his tastes. Dressed he moved to the doorway and gestured for Prentiss to move back.

"Lauren! I didn't know you had a fella!" An Irish voice shouted. Methos quirked an eyebrow at her, she mouth, 'Doyle'. Methos nodded and dropped to one knee, he peered around the corner and saw the man from the park in a doorway, as he registered Doyle another man moved and fired. Methos ducked back behind the wall and scowled.

"He has a partner. Check the fire escape." He said softly.

He guessed from the way their attack had gone so far that it had been rushed, Doyle's thirst to hurt Prentiss overriding his natural caution and planning. He hoped, otherwise he was badly miscalculating the situation.

Prentiss carefully approached the window to the fire escape and opened it as quietly as she could. The lower rungs and the alley were clear, the roof too appeared to be.

"It looks clear." She whispered. He nodded, noting her cautious phrasing.

"I'm going for Doyle, get out and run, contact me later." He said quietly. She looked stricken, she saw the anger and grief in his face but nodded anyway. Doyle was her burden but she wouldn't be able to convince Methos to back off, more, she didn't want to, she was afraid she didn't want to die and Methos wouldn't let her.

She put her cell in her pocket and slipped out the window. Methos charged Doyle and his flunkie.

The flunkie didn't last long, Methos charged just as the balding man was leaning out of the bathroom doorway to fire at Methos' Methos shot the man in the face and opened fire on Doyle. The Irishman was standing in the hallway he ducked around the doorjamb as Methos entered the hall. Methos' shots missed but allowed him to get close. Doyle reappeared in the doorway and opened fire as Methos jumped at him.

The tall immortal managed to jump a surprising distance, crashing into Doyle's chest as the Irishman continued to fire. Methos' unorthodox attack had earned him a grazed shoulder but little else. His impact knocked the breath from Doyle and the weapon from his hand. Without pausing to recover the killer drew a knife from his belt and went for Methos with a surprising degree of savagery. Methos tried to strike Doyle with his handgun, Doyle dodged and Methos used the opening to fire, the bullet hit Doyle in the shoulder, Methos tried to fire again but the weapon clicked on an empty chamber, snarling Methos flung the weapon at Doyle's face.

The Irishman ducked and lunged at Methos again, slashing and stabbing with a skill Methos had rarely seen in the last centuries. Doyle had fought and killed with knives before. Methos backed up and blocked most of Doyle's blows with his forearms. But it was a stalling action; he was trying to buy Prentiss time.

Forearms bloodied, shirt soaked and light headed with blood loss Methos turned the tables and pressed the offensive. He disarmed Doyle but lost his grip on the blade, it went spinning down the hall. Methos hoped that someone was home in the building and had called the police or fled for help.

He slugged Doyle in the face and wrapped his blood slicked fists around the man's throat. Doyle buried his feet in Methos stomach and kicked hard; Methos' slick hands scrabbled and lost their grip on Doyle's throat.

Doyle laughed a hoarse breathless noise and rolled onto his knees. Methos staggered upright, head swimming from adrenaline and blood loss and lunged at Doyle artlessly. The killer dodged Methos' clumsy attack and retrieved the dropped blade. Methos dimly registered that the hallway was smeared and soaked in blood, the majority of it his.

As Doyle picked up the knife Methos charged him again, a water buffalo charge fueled by rage and desperation, he crashed in to Doyle's midriff, driving the man backwards, down the hall and into the wall hard enough to dent and crack the dry wall.

As Methos had impacted Doyle, Doyle used the immortal's momentum and waning strength, combined with Doyle's strength to drive the blade into Methos' chest, just under the sternum. The blade had struck the immortal with such force that the crossbrace of the handle was driven into his flesh and muscle.

Methos sagged to his knees before Doyle. Doyle stepped forward freeing his shoulders from the drywall and looked down into Methos' clouding eyes. He grinned as the immortal slumped to the hallway.

Doyle chuckled between whooping gasps of air and jerked the blade free, impressed by how far it had been driven into his enemy's chest.

"That's for you Lauren." He whispered and hurried down the stairs clutching his bleeding shoulder and leaving Methos' corpse for the authorities.

Emily made it to the pavement, she heard the shots and shouts of Methos' attack but didn't dare wait to find out how things ended, she started to run.


	7. Failure

Methos opened his eyes to a depressingly familiar sight and sensation, the stifling slightly rough pressure of a thin cheap sheet over his corpse and the soft/hard sensation of a steel table or slab against his shoulders, butt, calfs and heels.

He blinked and subtly stretched his fingers and toes. He didn't want to frighten anyone but his body ached to move and judging by light shining through the cloth on his face, someone was in the room, or likely to be.

"What else we got?"

"Nothin' Franklin took care of the knife job after lunch."

"The stabbing?"

"Yeah, dude was done fore without the chest wound, blood loss."

"Right, well, clean up and head out, stop by security to leave your badge, they're doing some kind of upgrade you can pick it up from security when you come in tomorrow."

"Right, have a good night doc."

Methos held a shallow breath until his lungs burned then slowly let it out; he strained his hearing, desperate to locate the lone tech or whoever he was. The immortal heard footsteps and what he guessed was the sound of files being put away and similar cleanup activities. Finally at long last the light went out and Methos heard a deadbolt slide home

He was up quickly; wrapping the sheet around himself like a tunic he tied a knot at his hip and started to look for a way out or clothing. The dead bolt had been shot home from the outside of the door. He frowned at it, he could probably force it but would prefer not to. Immortals had a habit of investigating 'missing' body reports and he didn't want to bait any local hunters.

So he kept searching. He found a small storage closet filled with chemicals, sterile supplies and equipment, sheets and similar materiel.

The sound of the bolt being drawn on the exit sent a thrill of adrenaline through Methos. He pulled the closet door mostly closed – leaving a gap to peer through – and concentrated on breathing quietly.

"Adam?" It was Reid's voice. Methos let out his breath in a soft sigh and opened the door.

Reid looked exhausted, bags under his brown eyes looked like bruises against his pale skin. He smiled wanly at Methos.

"I brought you some clothes."

"Where's Prentiss?"

A shadow flickered in the boy's eyes and Methos felt a cold horror settle in his belly.

"No…" He whispered.

Reid's eyes dropped to the ground, his voice quavered.

"She's in surgery."

Methos took a duffel bag from Reid's nerveless fingers and dressed quickly. Reid lead him out of the morgue – Methos didn't ask how the tall lean agent avoided security or awkward questions – and to an SUV in the parking lot.

"What happened?"

"Doyle stabbed her. We…were too late."

Rage, grief, fear, and a hot heavy guilt settled onto Methos.

"I should have been there."

"The local P.D. processed you before we got there, they –"

"Did an autopsy, I know." As he spoke Methos' fingers strayed over his chest, as though he could feel the vanished Y-incision through the thing material of the borrowed button down shirt. The autopsy would not only have killed him – assuming he'd been healing in the first place, blood loss could do funny things to a Quickening's healing ability – but the tissue damage would take that much longer to repair."

"How long have I been down?"

"Fourteen hours."

Methos closed his eyes, his jaw flexed and nostrils flared as he drew in a slow deep breath. He opened his eyes and nodded. It was done, he would deal.

"Doyle?"

"He escaped." Reid said hoarsely. The boy cleared his throat several times and spoke again.

"We're on his trail but –"

"You'll lose him kid, it's what he does. He has what he wants, revenge."

"No, he wants his son."

So Reid told Methos about Declan Doyle, Doyle's secret son, how Prentiss had faked the murders of the boy and his foster mother, how she had ensured both would live happily in secrecy and how keeping that secret had landed her on an operating table.

Methos felt his heart twist. Sacrificing herself to protect a child she barely knew from a monster she had likely genuinely cared for at some point…that was the epitome of her. He licked his dry lips and focused.

"How far to the hospital?"

Reid put on the siren and lights in answer.

The waiting room was filled with Prentiss' family when Methos arrived. Morgan sat hunched forward on the edge of cloth and pine chair, Garcia at his side, to her right next to a potted plant Hotch sat with hands loosely clasped, stoic face twisted with worry. Rossi stood near Seaver half pacing in a short arc. Seaver looked up at Methos and Reid as they entered the room. Slowly the shell shocked agents followed her gaze.

Methos hated the looks in the eyes of all but Hotch and Rossi, the faint gleaming of hope. He was not their savior, he was as helpless, if not more so, than they. He swallowed and forced himself to calm down.

"Thank you sending Agent Reid." He said to the group as a whole. Rossi walked forward and put a hand on Methos' shoulder.

"We haven't heard anything yet."

Methos sat. Time crawled along. Hotch paced for awhile constantly checking his phone. Garcia and Morgan spoke quietly, Rossi and Seaver fetched coffee that most accepted but no one drank. Reid wrang his hands absently and chewed his lip. J.J. popped in and spoke quietly with Hotchner. Methos tried to hear what they were saying but an announcement over the P.A. drowned out their words and they were facing away from him.

Frustrated he rose and began pacing the linoleum lined hallway opening onto the waiting room and leading to the operating theater. He watched J.J. leave Hotch and enter the double doors leading to the operating theater.

He paced and thought and maybe, in some corner of his newly reconstructed soul, he prayed. His gaze drifted up from the monotonous rhythm of the linoleum tiling and his pace and settled on J.J. she was just visible through the windows in the crash doors. Her shoulders were…slumped, head bent in an attitude of defeat. He watched her lift her head and speak with someone out of view, her jaw flexed, her expression settled and she moved toward the door.

Methos felt his senses fade away, his eyes drifted to the shell shocked family cramming the waiting room and he wondered, distantly, how they would handle the grief J.J. was bringing them.

J.J. opened the doors and walked toward him, he looked away from her earnest reddening eyes, back at the team, he could feel the emotional upheaval approaching, like the distant sound of waves hitting a beach heralding a typhoon.

She opened her mouth hesitated then, as the tears in her eyes spilled over told them, "She never made it off the table."

Grief settled among them like the fog of some poison gas. Methos closed his eyes, felt an internal scream of denial ringing in his ears. Overcome, he fled to the nearest exit.

Hotchner watched Methos flee, some miniscule part of him wanted to run as well, to avoid facing the crushing grief, the failure, the loss that was facing him, facing his team.

Rossi turned to the shattered team. J.J. , held a helplessly sobbing Reid in her arms, Garcia huddled in Morgan's arms sobbing. Seaver looked shattered Hotchner closed his eyes and looked down.

The evening air was heavy with unshed moisture as Methos burst into it. He ran until sense and caution overruled his raging heart and forced him to calm down and at least attempt to blend with the evening foot traffic.

She was dead. Before her time, dead, murdered by Doyle. _Murdered_.

He let out a desperate animal noise and felt his knees weaken. The area around him on the wide sidewalk cleared as he began to sob, great whooping sobs of agony. Helpless, he fell to his knees, fists clenched and body tensed with the agony in his chest, sharp sour claws of grief tearing at him.

He didn't hear Seaver's running steps. Didn't see her push through the gawking crowd of people heading home from a late night at work, or out to the clubs and restaurants of the city. Didn't see her kneel beside him, or feel her arm on his shoulder, didn't hear her words in his ear.

Rossi pushed through the crowd and flashed his badge at them, ordering them to disperse. He resented their intrusion on Methos' pain, their leering gawking visages. This wasn't a reality TV show. All but the most reluctant gawkers streamed away as he turned to Seaver and Methos.

The immortals sobs tore at Rossi. He blamed himself for missing Methos' body, taking too long to find it, so long that he underwent an autopsy. He crouched on the opposite side of Methos from Seaver. Carefully placed a hand on the immortal's back.

Methos' sobs slowed and finally stopped he looked up at Rossi as if seeing him for the first time.

"Come on." He said gently and helped Methos to his feet.


	8. Endurance

**_A/N, there's a point to all this intercutting. Honesties._**

"Hey Jack." Daniel said as the Colonel joined him for breakfast in the chowhall. The scientist was eating fruit loops. Jack took a long hard look at the brightly colored loops, then flicked his gaze to Daniel.

"Really?"

"Well it's not like I knew you'd want to eat breakfast with me today."

Jack sighed dramatically and started to slice his pancakes into chunks.

"Okay look, you're the one that was stuck eating fruit loops for what, six months? Not me, and I _like_ fruit loops." Daniel said in exasperation.

Jack ate a slice of pancake and skewered Daniel with a solemn look.

"Oh hell." Daniel sighed and pushed the offending breakfast treat aside.

"Max was due back yesterday." Daniel said deftly changing the subject.

"The General is looking into it." Jack said around a mouthful of pancake. Daniel made a face.

Carter arrived with a bowl of fruit, an orange juice and a side of sausage.

"Hungry?" She asked Daniel noticing the abandoned bowl of cereal.

"How'd you guess?" He asked with a smile. She sat down and divvied up her fruit and sausage between herself and Daniel.

"Any word on Max?" She asked biting into a slice of cantaloupe.

"The general is investigating." Daniel said eating a honeydew chunk.

* * *

><p>Max smiled at the last survivor in the basecamp.<p>

"Who is pulling your chain?" She asked. She was still dressed in the reclamation suit though it was pocked with the edge of a shotgun blast, cut in two places by a combat knife, and sporting a hole in the gut from a pistol shot.

"They'll kill me!" The young woman gasped as Max loomed over her. The immortal held a handgun in one hand and a bloody combat knife –slightly longer of blade than the one she'd started with – in the other.

"Seriously?" She asked wryly.

The young woman licked her dry lips.

"Look, I can protect you if you're afraid of them." Max said gently. She was tired, physically worn out from the last few days of running. The fighting had been good, the killing better, but now she wanted a nap and a good meal.

"You can?"

"I'm with SG-1." She said simply. The girl's eyes widened, Max twisted and turned around, narrowly avoiding being stabbed by the wounded man behind her.

She'd thought he was unconscious and hadn't bothered to slit his throat. She regretted that now.

"Kid put your pig sticker down, I can take you."

"You're a monster." He hissed. He was pressing one hand to his lower ribs, she could see blood oozing between them.

"You're hurt, probably gonna die if you don't get patched up properly. Put down your knife, I'll patch you up and call for evac. Look,the worst the SGC will do is debrief you and maybe stick you in jail. Isn't that better than bleeding to death in this hell hole?"

He lunged at her again. She stabbed him through the throat into his skull.

"Guess not." She sighed and dropped the body, knife and all to the floor.

"So what's it gonna be?" She asked the girl.

The young woman shivered, though the area inside the tent was at least ninety degrees Fahrenheit.

"Don't have all day." Max said sharply.

The woman nodded.

"Good, thank you, now where's the comm equipment?"

* * *

><p>"Airman Holloway dropped out of contact while conducting field tests on a suite of extreme desert survival gear. The team monitoring the tests were discovered dead 36 hours ago." General Hammond said.<p>

The team sat up and exchanged glances.

"Sir?" Jack asked with an annoyed expression.

"Technically the team conducting the tests and Holloway weren't under SGC command at the time of the event, they're claiming this is why we weren't notified immediately."

Jack grumbled something obscene under his breath.

"I believe that to be a false statement." Teal'c said darkly.

"What's being done to find her?" Daniel asked.

"Search teams were dispatched twenty four hours ago, so far they've come up empty."

"Why the twelve hour wait?" Sam asked.

"There was some thought at the time that Holloway might not have been missing."

"Shit, they thought she did it." Jack growled, he was idly fiddling with a pencil, he had been doodling on the manila cover of a file.

General Hammond didn't confirm or deny it.

"Sir –"

"These," Hammond said bringing up a satellite image onto the slide screen, "Is an image of the area max disappeared in."

The image showed what appeared to be some kind of structure in the midst of a small string of low hills or rocks. It was smoking.

"This image was captured one hour ago the search team has since been re-tasked to investigate."

More photos filled the screen; images of a burned out tent city, corpses and craters, blood smears and singed tents. The final image was of Max, tanned, blood spattered, dehydrated and exhausted, her expression was angry and defiant, and her hands were cuffed behind her back. At her side a young woman, face tear stained was shouting at the photographer.

"Holloway is being held pending charges of murder, kidnapping, destruction of property and so on."

"Held by whom general?" Jack grated.

"Local law enforcement. They were brought in to lead the search."

Jack groaned and rested his head on his forearms.

"SG-1, you are being dispatched to retrieve the prisoner and transfer her into federal custody."

"The prisoner? General –" Daniel argued.

"Doctor Jackson, we all know that if she killed those people there's a fifty/fifty chance that they deserved it or simply got in her way. I like Max, I hope she's innocent, but we have to do this by the book. I don't trust anyone else to handle this." Hammond growled.

"Sir, when you say transfer the prisoner?"

"Airman Holloway is to be treated as a prisoner at all times, restraints will be used per regulations." Hammond sighed.

Jack broke his pencil.

* * *

><p>Methos stared morosely out the window in Mac's loft. The Scot was asleep in the bedroom, sprawled across his futon with the abandon of a small child. Methos wore only boxer shorts as he watched the dead city below. Light reflected up at him, cast him in pale blue light.<p>

As he watched the city rain started to fall. Hard, driving rain, rattling insistently against the windows and filling the gutters in moments.

Methos heard a groan and a sleepy sigh from the bedroom. Methos cut a glance toward Macleod, he was on his back, spread eagled, but sound asleep still.

Methos turned back to the rain, he was leaning against Macleod's counter top, arms folded. The loft was cool goosebumps rippled his skin but he didn't move to dress or turn on the heat. He stared out the window, content with the chill. A tear slid from his right eye, coursed the hard flat planes of his cheek and clung to his jaw for a moment before falling and striking his bare chest. He didn't seem to be aware of it.

A film was playing in his head, one that he was intimately familiar with. He referred to it as the what if reel. It was what would have happened if he hadn't been killed by Doyle, what would have happened if he'd been there when Emily needed him, if Derek hadn't been seconds too late, if Emily had told Doyle where Declan was…. If, if, if, if, if, _IF_.

Another languorous sigh from the bedroom, Methos glanced over, Macleod was still asleep. Methos ran a hand over his goose fleshed arms and leaned away from the counter top. He walked to the window, stared down at the soaking streets, pressed a hand to the pane and watched the fog attracted by the heat film the window.

He missed her. He missed her in a way that was …sharp, singularly unique to her. He didn't mourn her the way he had mourned Alexa, or the thousands of loves and hundreds of wives before Emily, he didn't even miss her the way he missed Viola.

The rational portion of his mind told him that was natural, expected, he didn't love them the way he loved Prentiss. Couldn't have, but another part of him argued that it was more than just the unique aspects of Emily that it was … more.

He couldn't articulate it any clearer than that. He sometimes wondered what kept him awake at night, the grief that chewed and gnawed at him daily, or this lurking certainty.

He didn't know. He dropped his hand from the fogged pane and looked up at the clouded sky.

Methos missed the stars of his youth, well, relative youth. In the last two hundred years especially the stars had given way to the dull glow of light pollution from the cities and suburbs. All at once he ached to see the familiar north star or even the moon. Something familiar that had been around at least as long as he had. A soft pained sob slipped from his lips. He bit his lip and closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against the cool glass and focused on feeling the rain striking the glass. Not on the pain he could never put down or forget.

The grief of losing _her_.


	9. Progress?

Macleod woke to an empty loft. Methos' few things were gone. The cot his friend had attempted to sleep in for the few days he'd been visiting was mussed as though it had been lain on but the blankets hadn't been pulled aside.

The Scot was far from surprised but a vague sense of disappointment filled him. He rose, walked past the cot to the restroom and brushed his teeth. His mind lingered on Methos.

The last ten years had battered the man severely. Mac spat a mouthful of toothpaste into the sink and favored the mirror with a wry smile. Really, though, who hadn't been through the grinder the last few years? He shook his head and unspooled a length of floss.

No, they'd all been through shit but had come through it, largely because they were willing to rely on each other. But Methos wouldn't, or maybe couldn't do that now. Mac finished with the floss and tossed it. He studied his mouthwash absently.

Why couldn't he? Was that just how he preferred to grieve? Was it because he'd accepted Death and therefore was a colder man? He doubted that.

He picked up the mouthwash and carefully poured a small measure. He swished it around his mouth enjoying the prickling stinging astringent nature of the liquid and tried to dismiss Methos from his thoughts. He had a history class to teach in a two hours and should really be focusing on that.

But try as he might his thoughts circled back to his friend. Why had Methos come back to Seacouver after the events on Carthis? Why was he grieving so deeply over Prentiss?

"Professor?" Macleod blinked and looked up from his desk. Michelle a heavy set tom boy with an almost unnerving dedication to medieval history was standing in front of him.

"Uh, yes?"

"You seemed distracted today." It wasn't phrased as a question, more a critique. She looked at him with surprisingly deep blue eyes.

"Yes, I'm sorry about that Michelle." He said standing and slipping his few notes and texts into his briefcase.

"It's okay. Will you be okay on Wednesday?"

He stared at her. Wednesday was the next day the class met.

"Yes, I'm sure I'll be fine –"

"It's just that, when you left last quarter, the substitute was sub-par. So I worry." She said intently.

"Right, uh right, yes I apologize for that , I had a personal emergency." He explained.

She fixed him with her stunning eyes for a few seconds then nodded abruptly and left the lecture hall. Mac looked up at the empty stadium style seating and let out a low breath.

* * *

><p>Max didn't speak much when SG-1 arrived to transfer her. They were wearing plain clothes, Teal'c sported his usual Fedora. The Sheriffs holding her were dubious about releasing her to four oddly dressed supposed representatives of the government but after verifying their IDs and calling their bosses to confirm the lawmen reluctantly released Max into their custody.<p>

Max wore an orange jumpsuit, manacles, and shackles. Her head was lowered, expressionless face studying the cracked concrete floor when the team arrived. She didn't move until Jack and Daniel approached her.

Then, her head shot up like a grazing deer hearing a rifle's shot. Her eyes were slightly wide, nostrils flared. By the looks of her she hadn't eaten or bathed since being taken into custody and processed. Dried blood and dirt smeared her face. She relaxed once she recognized the men. They helped her stand and shuffle to the rented SUV parked out front.

"Easy does it." Jack said helping Max negotiate the stairs leading out of the Sheriff's office. The shackles gave her enough reach to negotiate them, barely. Sam held the door while Teal'c moved ahead to the SUV. Daniel hovered at her elbow while Jack held her arm.

"It's good to see you again." She said as they reached the vehicle. Jack grinned at her.

"Yeah you too. How was CC?" He asked sourly.

"Challenging." She admitted with a faint smile.

"Right, well, you're coming home now."

The other three had exchanged stricken, furious, and smoldering looks respectively. Teal'c and Sam looked as though they had murder on their mind while Daniel looked like he'd been sucker punched.

"They can't treat her like this." Daniel insisted.

"They just did Daniel. Look, she's a suspected mass murderer odds are they didn't want to risk her getting away or worse so they just didn't deal with her altogether." Jack snapped his hands were trembling slightly as he reached for the handle to the front passenger's door. Daniel assumed it was rage.

The scientist climbed into the rear sitting to Max's right, Teal'c on her left, Sam drove.

"We should stop at a motel Sir –"

"Drive on Major, the sooner we get to the SGC the sooner we get this shit sorted out." Jack growled. What he was really saying was that he wanted the General and Max's lawyer to see what state she was left in.

"No hurry. I did it." Max said from the back.

"What?" Jack asked before the others could respond.

"What do you mean you did 'it'?" Daniel asked.

"I killed the people at the base camp. And the two squads."

Silence.

Sam licked her lips.

"Was it self defense?" Carter asked carefully.

"Yes." Max said calmly.

"If you were defending yourself then you are not guilty of murder as charged Max Holloway." Teal'c rumbled.

"But I did kill them." She insisted.

"Max?" Jack grunted.

She looked at him with desert faded eyes.

"Shut up about that." He sighed with a resigned grunt.

* * *

><p>He traveled. He revisited old favorites and found new ones to replace those that had been destroyed by time and progress. He ate too much, drank too much, laughed and cried. He lived. When the dreams came, when all he could see was her face he would drink, or take whatever mood altering substance was at hand. He would run from it and dull it, crush it away with chemicals until he could sleep or, more accurately pass out without seeing her calling for him, reproaching him, dying.<p>

He found himself standing in a bazaar in what he was reasonably sure was Bangkok. He watched the people milling about, buying, selling, living real lives and wondered what he was doing. He had been granted, gifted, cursed? With life beyond reason and he was spending it in grief and a drugged haze.

Methos felt a cold shame then. No it wasn't quite shame it was…an awakening. As though someone had reached into his head and dumped a bucket of ice water on his inner self. This was a foolish waste of time, an indulgence, he was stronger than this, better than it.

He'd thought he'd learned the dangers of unchecked indulgence when he'd lived with Byron. Apparently some lessons needed to be repeated. He had to pick up the pieces of his life. After Alexa had died Macleod had given him one of the better pieces of advice he'd heard in his life.

He repeated the paraphrased version that had become something of a mantra in the wake of losing her, "So long as I live she is not truly dead."

* * *

><p>"She'll be convicted." The lawyer sighed.<p>

SG-1 and the general were arrayed in the briefing room. Max sat at the end of the table opposite the lawyer.

"You can't be serious." Daniel objected.

"They have a surviving witness and more forensic evidence than most Vegas hotels. You have a conspiracy theory and a ton of redacted files. This is a civilian case, General Hammond, that means a civilian jury. There are nearly fifty dead people out there and the only survivor is so horrified she can barely string a sentence together. In a word General Airman Holloway's case is fucked."

"She is innocent Major –"

"I know that General. We all do and any reasonable person with all of the facts before them would too. But any civilian jury won't get all the facts."

"So that's it? We give up and turn Max over? For what? Execution?" Jack snarled.

"There is one other option." The lawyer, Major something Jack couldn't recall his name, sighed.

"Well then, let's hear it." Hammond snapped.

"Assign her offworld. Permanently."

A thoughtful silence filled the room.

"If she's offworld then she'll be out of civilian jurisdiction and if she never returns to Earth they can't levy the charges against her." Sam said in an impressed tone.

"She'll be a fugitive. She'll never be able to go back to Seacouver, she won't be able to see Joe or Macleod, even Adam –" Daniel argued.

"I'll go." Max said firmly.

"Max you need to think about this –"

"What's to think about Jack? When they convict me I'll be sentenced to life, possibly I'll receive the death penalty. What then? If I'm in prison there'll be annual checkups, if I'm in a fight the medics won't understand why I heal the way I do. I'll expose immortals or have to escape. So, in the end, I'd be a fugitive _anyway_. At least this way I can do some good. Besides nothing would stop them from trying me in absentia."

"It is not an easy life being a fugitive Max Holloway." Teal'c said softly.

Max's hard tanned face softened.

"I know Teal'c I see how you suffer being away from your son and people, but _this_ world, hasn't really been my home for a long time. My home is with the SGC, with you." She said drawing her eyes around the room.

"Good, then it's settled." The lawyer said rising and collecting his paperwork.

"Wait, there has to be a better way –" Sam objected.

"It's okay Sam, really." Max insisted.

They stared at her, refusing or unable to believe that leaving Earth for the foreseeable future could really be that simple.

"You're forgetting that I could outlive you all five times over –"

"If you don't get yourself killed first." Daniel said with a pained voice. Max smiled at him.

"Right, so whether I live that life here, at the alpha site or somewhere else off world doesn't matter. I'll live and one day, when the judge, the jury, and all the rest are dead and their grandchildren are rickety I _can_ come back."

"I guess that puts a different spin on things." Hammond mused.

* * *

><p>She watched the crowd, coffee sitting untouched as the Parisian night filled with lovers and tourists. The café was pleasingly common about as average as a Parisian caffe on a lovely evening could be. Its one distinction was its location within sight of the Eiffel tower on the corner of two main streets. It was guaranteed to have a healthy crowd at any time of day.<p>

She tapped her fingers on a newspaper set before her. A blond woman wearing a bright lavender and purple neck scarf approached her, as the woman drew closer she could see that it was Agent Jennifer Jereau.

J.J. sat carefully, with a stifled smile and a long look at the woman sitting at the table, she set a padded envelope on the table and said, "Passports for three different countries and bank accounts in each. Should keep you comfortable."

The woman took the envelope revealing a missing thumb nail on her right hand. She murmured thank you as she rose to leave.

"Good luck." J.J. said warmly and reluctantly but deliberately turned her attention to the paper.

As J.J. watched her companion from the corner of her eye, she rose from the table and strolled toward the Eiffel tower vanishing into the crowd of the ancient city.


	10. Sharp Things

Jarod watched the waves chewing at the shoreline. They were all shades of blue today. He wondered what that might herald for the weather. Most days they were a crisp cerulean blue with lighter patches of sky blue shot through with dark strands of seaweed. The beach was mostly rock with rough coarse sand close to the water's edge.

He came to the shore every day for at least an hour. He was sitting with his bare feet half buried in the sand, holding a piece of driftwood and allowing his gaze to drift over the waves. One morning he had seen a group of otters playing a quarter mile off shore. They hadn't come back since.

"Jarod?" It was his mother. He smiled at her. She was standing by the tree line a hundred feet up-shore from him. He waited for her as she picked her way down the rocky beach to his side. She carefully sat in the sand at his side.

He studied her red hair and flinty blue eyes.

"Are you happy son?" She asked gently.

"Of course I am! Why wouldn't I be?" He asked taking her hand in his and squeezing it warmly.

"Sometimes you look _ so_ sad Jarod." She said, softly returning his squeeze.

"Well, I wonder sometimes, what happened to Miss Parker after we split up, where Methos and Emily are. What exactly happened on Carthis. And I…I guess I get sad sometimes too. I miss Sydney I suppose."

"Carthis was an evil place Jarod, put it out of your head." She said sharply, almost savagely.

"I can't Mom, look _something_ happened to me there, something I don't understand yet but it changed me."

"Jarod, please, please don't linger on that, please just enjoy your family –"

"Is it my family Mom? I'm adopted, I know that. Kyle, your true son, died in my arms with a bullet in his back, a bullet he took to save my life."

Her face crumpled in grief.

"Please, please Jarod, I lost Kyle don't make me lose you too." She begged tears on her cheeks.

"You have Jacob, and Dad, even Emily is here. You don't need me anymore Mom, you won, you and Dad, you beat the Centre and got me back, but now you have a chance to be a happy family. Jacob needs you more…" He trailed off not wanting to hurt her further.

"Maybe you're right Jarod, but please don't ask me about Carthis." She said wiping at her tears with her free hand.

"If you were me, wouldn't you need to know?" He asked in an anguished voice.

They were silent for a time then. Only the hiss and roar of the waves filling the air.

"I can tell you what I know." Her voice was hollow.

He didn't speak but wrapped a strong arm around her shoulders and held her.

* * *

><p>"How do you like the Alpha site?" Jack asked with an expansive tour guide note to his voice.<p>

"It'll do." Max sighed surveying it.

Ideally it would one day serve as a last ditch evac point for the Earth's people and a secondary base for the SGC. Right now it was a half dozen Quonset huts with a broken generator.

"Lot of work." She sighed.

"Hell, you'll be busy at least." He said with forced cheer.

She cocked her head at him.

"Thanks for trying to cheer me up. Colonel, but really, I'm fine."

Stung by the use of his rank he dropped the façade.

"Yeah, well it's a fixer upper for certain but you're safe from extradition so long as you stay off Earth. They, uh they served the warrant today."

"Ah, so, it's official." She was studying the huts and pondering where to start making improvements.

"One thing." Jack said clearing his throat. Max smiled and folded her arms.

"In honor of your service and sacrifice you are hereby promoted to the rank of Captain. " He said and pressed two sets of silver double bars into her hand. She opened her fist and stared down at them.

"A field commission?"

"Well, General Hammond wanted to do it publicly but politics interfered."

She kept staring at it.

"Jack, I haven't earned this." She wasn't being modest she genuinely believed it.

"Don't worry you'll do an OTS correspondence course for the book work and we'll sort out the rest as we go."

She kept staring at him.

"Right, well this way you'll also be in charge of any work crews that come through –"

"And they won't argue with me. Right." Her shoulders settled and she relaxed somewhat. At least now she knew why she was being accorded the rank.

"You're certain about this? 'Cause if you aren't –"

"I'm sure Jack, really I am. This is the best for everyone." She said with a smile.

He studied her with a frown.

"I think you're lying Max. I think you know this is the best solution for the SGC so you're going to fight like hell to stay here to protect the SGC from bad press and exposure."

Her green eyes met his dark eyes and didn't budge.

"What of it Jack? Would that be so bad?"

"If you go bonkers? If you lose it and kill someone? Yeah it is because if you do that you'll be brought back and even if you get off on the mass murder you'll be nailed to the wall for that one."

She lowered her gaze and swallowed slowly.

"I'll still go on missions." She said finally.

He threw up his hands and started to stalk away from her.

"Jack wait!" She called still clutching the Captain's insignia in a clenched fist.

He paused in his stomping stroll to the stargate and waited for her.

"Look, you're right, okay? About all of it and I know it. I swear to you, right here, right now that if I ever feel like I'm losing control I will let you know and if I have to I'll come back and turn myself over to the authorities rather than hurt an innocent person. I swear it."

She was trembling slightly.

"Goddamnit Max, the point is you _can't_ control it, not all the time." He growled.

"Then what would you suggest Jack?" She asked quietly fists at her sides, head lowered voice soft.

Jack studied her for a moment, her hair had grown longer than she usually kept it, it was almost in her eyes, red brown shot with gold, skin still darkly tanned, eyes shadowed. She looked resigned, not defeated, not yet, but close to it. He watched a thin stream of blood trickled and drip from her clenched fist clutching the rank insignia.

Jack took her bleeding fist in his hands and slowly pried her fingers apart.

"Jack, without the SGC…I'd end up a hunter and that's no life. Let me do this, _help_ me do this. Please."

He sighed and lowered his forehead to hers.

"Crap." He muttered.

* * *

><p>Methos was cold, Paris wasn't known for gentle winters. He shrugged his coat tighter and ran through the plan again.<p>

Ian Doyle had survived his gunshot wound in D.C. and survived killing his lover. Methos had resisted the urge to kill Doyle for weeks but now he was going to do it. It would be a service to society. He'd tracked Doyle to Paris and spent three long days following him. He'd determined the only way he could really succeed was to simply gun him down on the street. Doyle had too many men and was too security conscious for any kind of snatch and grab to work. It was a pity, he didn't deserve a clean death.

He shivered again and tugged his wool watch cap lower. He was waiting for Doyle to leave a restaurant. The man had been inside for three hours and could remain for another three. He watched patrons stream in and out, as far as the immortal could tell the restaurant was legitimate. As he watched an unusually tall woman with short straight brown hair approached the restaurant. Her back was to him. He watched her and felt déjà vu wash over him, the woman moved with sharp familiar gestures. His heart jumped and lurched in his chest.

"Emily?" He breathed.

Breaking cover he jogged toward the woman. She didn't turn as he approached until the last second she glanced at him over her shoulder.

He felt like he'd been struck in the forehead with a two by four. He staggered, stopped and stood slack jawed. It was _her, _ she stared at him, her warm brown eyes unreadable.

"Emily?" He breathed.

She took his arm and walked with him back across the street to the doorway he'd been lurking in.

"You're not dead." He whispered and kissed her. She pulled away after a moment.

"What are you doing here?" She asked hoarsely.

"Killing Doyle." He said coldly.

"No –"

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked voice coarse and low.

"There wasn't time, I woke up in recovery and they told me the team thought I was dead and if I kept quiet I would be allowed to pursue Doyle. By the time I could leave you'd vanished and I couldn't risk finding you through Joe or Macleod, it would have traced back to the team and Doyle would have known I was alive, he would have gone after them." She whispered in a rush, her hands wrapped in the material of his coat.

"Let me do this Emily."

"What? No –"

"Listen to me. Killing Doyle in cold blood will change you, he deserves it, _I know_ he does but I don't want you to have that burden."

She stared up at him, his face was hidden in shadow.

"I've killed before-"

"In hot blood, to survive, to defend, this is different. Please." He murmured.

She considered it for a long set of heartbeats then nodded once, sharply. He held her then, close and firm, felt her hands against his chest, her strong shoulders and back under his hands, her head against his neck, soft warm breath on his throat.

"I love you so much." He whispered voice breaking.

Doyle didn't leave for another two hours. Methos didn't mind, he and Prentiss stood in the doorway, entwined, the world could have ended with them standing there and he wouldn't have been bothered too much. He almost resented Doyle's reappearance.

Almost. He would relish killing Doyle, putting an end to his depravity, protecting Declan and avenging Emily.

The Irishman was sober as he left the restaurant, Methos had assumed he would be but found himself annoyed by it nonetheless. As he strolled toward Doyle he thumbed the safety off his nine millimeter – loaded with hollow point glazer rounds – and prepared himself.

Doyle turned away from his dinner companion – a stocky grizzled Frenchman – and faced Methos.

"For Emily." Methos said softly and fired. The first round impacted Doyle just above his solar plexus, the next five entered the trunk of his body savaging it beyond repair. Each round left a fist sized hole, the last shot Methos fired into the man's face obliterating his features and most of his skull. He dropped the weapon beside Doyle and walked back to Emily.

She was pale, trembling ever so slightly but took his arm in hers and they calmly walked away from the carnage and into the Parisian night.


	11. Interlude

_**A/N The Prentiss Vs. Doyle arc including her 'death' is, in fact, canon, and annoyed the hell out of me. Yeah. Anyway, here's s'more :D**_

"He's dead?" Derek asked, he sounded angry.

Hotchner regarded the upset agent with a direct and intense stare.

"The report is conclusive, the I.D. was made via DNA and fingerprints."

"DNA? How did he die?" Reid asked.

"He was shot several times in the chest and face." Hotchner replied.

"That was better than he deserved." Derek growled. No one argued.

"S-so that's it? It's over?" Garcia asked hollowly.

"I'm afraid so." Hotchner sighed.

Reid glanced at Morgan who was glowering at the file; Garcia made a small noise and slipped away to her tiny office. Hotchner frowned minutely, picked up the file and walked back to his office.

* * *

><p>Seacouver was a nice city, Jarod thought studying the façade of Joe's bar. It was reasonably clean, had a lower than average crime rate, decent employment numbers. All the statistics were in the green. The architecture was varied enough to be interesting, the local universities had excellent reputations, so on and so forth. But more than that, he just liked the city.<p>

He entered the bar and took a table in the rear, in the shadows. A waitress arrived and he ordered ginger ale and a burger. He'd meant to come here with Methos, but things always got in the way. Now that his friend was off the radar Jarod was reluctant to contact him. He knew that he at least had to try. Methos deserved to know the truth about Carthis, and, if Jarod's suspicions were confirmed he would have more than a few questions for the immortal himself.

Jarod sighed and forced himself to eat the burger when it arrived. It wasn't the burger's fault he just wasn't too sure how to approach Joe about contacting Methos. He finished his meal while watching Joe and the other personnel interact with the patrons of the bar. Finally Jarod screwed up his courage and approached Joe.

"I'm looking for a man I think you know." He said carefully. Joe was standing behind the bar, leaning on his cane and favoring Jarod with a speculative look.

"Is that so?"

"Adam?"

Joe's face clouded.

"I'm a friend –"

"Jarod?" Joe half guessed. Jarod blinked in surprise then nodded.

"I don't know where he is, his girlfriend was murdered a few weeks ago. He took off, grieving."

"Emily is dead?" Jarod asked going ashen.

Joe nodded and gestured at his bartender.

"Get the man a drink." Joe growled. The 'tender obliged pouring a finger of scotch, Joe pushed it across the bar to Jarod.

"She tangled with a scumbag she locked away when she was working for Interpol. He broke out and got to her."

Jarod stared at the drink.

"You don't know where he would go?"

"Would you?" Joe asked with a wry smile.

Jarod mimicked the smile and shook his head in negation.

"No, probably not, he seems to be kind of private with that sort of thing."

"Shit, I've known him for damn near twenty years kid and he's always surprising me." Joe snorted.

Jarod nodded again, absently as though he were thinking hard about his next move. Or maybe about the dead agent.

"Look, you're welcome to stick around, or you can leave your details with me. He'll get in contact eventually, always does."

"Do you know where Prentiss was buried?"

"D.C. I think."

"Thank you Joe, you've been very kind."

"Yeah well, don't spread the word gotta keep up an image here." Joe said with a smile.

Jarod left then thinking of the best way to get to D.C., he was reasonably sure that his friend would visit his lover's grave with some regularity.

* * *

><p>He held <em>her<em> in his arms, her short hair splayed like a fan across the crisp white of the pillow case. Face slackened in sleep granting her an innocence she didn't possess when awake. He ran a thumb along her jaw, amazed that she was really there, really with him.

Her eyelids fluttered and opened, her dark eyes adjusted to the dim filtered sunlight of their room. She smiled at him, a sly expression curving her lips just so. She snuggled closer to him, pressing her back and shoulders against his warm chest.

"Do you always creep your lover out by leering at her first thing in the morning?" She murmured.

"Only you." He whispered and kissed her earlobe.

She laughed and twisted to face him.

"It's really over isn't it?"

"Yes." He said simply and kissed her nose.

"Stop that, I'm trying to have a conversation here!" She laughed. He grinned at her.

"Yes, it's over, the Centre is finished and Doyle is dead."

"God, I never…I didn't think this could ever really happen." She sighed and pressed her cheek to his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, cradling her.

"I know." He agreed.

"Think the other shoe will drop?"

"It bloody well not." He growled earning a bout of giggles from her that he promptly smothered with kisses.

* * *

><p>"Right, well, we'll need to bring in the heavy equipment tomorrow before we can move on with the substructures. How is the temporary camp?" Max asked scowling at a set of blueprints.<p>

"Solid enough." The man at her elbow sighed, Siler looked haggard, Max looked slightly better. The two were determined to have a solid base in place and functional at the Alpha Site in six months. Max tried to keep Siler from burning himself out, or worse, making a key error in judgment that could cost precious time or money. She wasn't sure what their budget was but knew that the less they overspent and the more they saved the less meddling would come their way from Earth. But, as a workaholic with the added benefit of an immortal's abilities to keep her on her feet, she sometimes forgot that Siler was just as determined as she but not immortal.

"Right, get some sleep I don't want to see your face for twelve hours, I mean it, I can supervise the shipments and your people don't need watching."

"Right away." Siler said with a weary smile. Max smirked at him and waved him off. She had a half dozen chapters of coursework due for her unorthodox OCS training to complete before morning. She wasn't wearing her Captain's bars and wouldn't until she'd finished the training. Sylar didn't mind, he was happy being a non-com and didn't mind Max calling the shots. She was smart enough to leave most of it up to him and take advice whenever it was offered.

She ran a hand through her newly cropped hair and rolled the blueprints up for storage.

"Incoming wormhole!" A voice crackled over her radio.

"On my way." She growled back. They weren't expecting anyone for another six hours. She picked up the assault rifle on the work table and jogged to the gate.

All Alpha Site personnel were armed at all times. The only way they could keep the site secret from unexpected visitors was to insure they didn't realize the site was there, or, worse case scenario, killing them before they could report back to their planets.

So far it hadn't come to that.

The gate spun, lit up, roared, and spat the center of a wormhole at the waiting troops. She joined them and took a knee raising her weapon to her shoulder as the mirrored surface of the wormhole settled. They waited for over a minute before anything exited the wormhole. It was a metallic box with a padlock on the front.

"Do we have a point of origin?" She asked no one in particular.

"Earth!" Someone shouted back. Max frowned then rose and slung the weapon over her shoulder, muzzle to the ground and approached the box. Just because it was from Earth didn't make it safe or even necessarily mean it was from the SGC.

As she walked toward it the wormhole collapsed and the gate powered down. She was pleased that the troops arrayed before it did not drop their guards. She had handpicked them then drilled them hard, she had run the drills and training exercises with them, proving she would never ask anything from them that she couldn't or wouldn't do herself. They were loyal and smart it was her intention to keep each and every one of them alive and in one piece for as long as she possibly could, considering the danger of their assignment.

Max approached the box cautiously, it could be booby trapped. She knelt and carefully lifted it upright hoping a key was taped to it. She scowled when none was apparent. She sniffed the partially open lid, tugged experimentally on the padlock, peered into the gap of the lid, slid a flashlight off of her harness and used that to peer inside.

She still couldn't see anything clearly.

"Juarez, get this to the Engineering section, see if they can make heads or tails of it and get it open." Max said standing.

One of the soldiers broke formation and trotted up to her. She was in her early twenties but hard faced, strong, and sharp eyed.

"Everyone else, well done, you're dismissed but as always keep an ear out. The last thing we need is to compromise this location and waste our hard work." She grunted.

The thirty or so troops broke formation and dispersed casually.

Max fell asleep over one of her textbooks fifteen minutes later. Her second in command, Lieutenant Schaffer, an intelligent, flexible, and dedicated Marine, draped a blanket over Max's shoulders and left orders not to disturb her unless an emergency occurred.

* * *

><p>Max dreamed.<p>

She was back in the South American jungle where she'd lost her will to an ancient and cunning enemy armed with alien technology and as loony as it was possible to get. She was running through the jungle.

Vines, branches, and other green things lurched and lunged into her path, tripping and clawing at her. She stumbled and tried to catch her balance but failed, slipping and falling into the reaching hungry plant life she screamed as her body pitched forward –

And woke with a startled jerk, slamming her knee into her desk and pinwheeling backwards, falling out of her chair with a resounding BANG.

The door to her office/quarters opened tentatively. Schaffer's tired face appeared.

"Nothing injured but my already questionable dignity." Max sighed as a smile slipped onto Schaffer's hard face.


	12. Talking

**A/N as the title of this chapter hints, there's loads of chatting this round. Also I re-wrote it make like, actual sense, as a keen eyed reviewer WTF'd over Prentiss magically forgetting who the hell Max is. Le sigh. This is one of those things that crops up when you're retarded tired and try to write anyway... New chapters are due in the next two weeks. :)**

Juarez delivered the box to the eggheads then hung around to see if they cracked it right off or would need more time. She settled in to a comfortable standing position near the door, folded her arms and watched.

"This what came through the gate?" Siler's right hand man Kennemore asked with a raised eyebrow. Juarez grunted.

"Hmm point of origin?"

"Earth."

Kennemore raised both eyebrows at that. Juarez grunted again. The gangly scientist set the box on a workbench and shifted a bright lamp over it. He carefully examined the exterior and the lock, took a few notes, even some digital photos.

Juarez started to get bored. She sat back on her heels slightly and started to hum still watching Kennemore's progress, or apparent lack thereof.

Finally the scientist picked up a small battery powered saw and started sawing through the U of the padlock. After five minutes the lock fell to the workbench surface with a loud tock. Kennemore killed the saw and cautiously lifted the lid.

A folded sheet of paper lay within. Kennemore frowned at it for a moment then using a pair of tweezers fished it out of the box and set it on the work table.

Juarez moved closer and peered at it as Kennemore unfolded it.

The sheet looked like some kind of fancy linen or parchment paper. It was entirely blank except for one word in the center of the page. It was written in a precise flowing script, Juarez studied the shape of the lines and guessed it had been written with a quill pen.

_Carthis_.

"What the hell is Carthis?" Juarez asked.

"No idea, let Schaffer and Max know we've got the box open." Kennemore said. Juarez sighed and slipped off to do as asked.

"Captain Holloway?" Juarez called knocking on her C.O.'s door.

"Juarez? What's up?"

"Kennemore got the box op-"

Max was on her feet and slipping past Juarez before the soldier finished speaking. Juarez grunted mildly and followed her leader.

Max stared at the piece of paper with a perturbed expression.

"This was all that was in it?"

"Yes." Kennemore sighed.

"Run every test you can on it then isolate it, I want it ready to go back with the delivery team tomorrow." Max sighed.

* * *

><p>Jack scowled at the gate and heaved a put-upon sigh. To secure the secrecy of the Alpha Site protocol dictated that anyone heading to it for routine reasons would never jump there directly from Earth. This was the third jump and hopefully the next would be the Alpha Site.<p>

He glanced at the rest of his team and bit back his bad temper. Normally only one or two of them went by the Alpha site, ostensibly to review progress on behalf of General Hammond, really to hang out with Max and see how things were going in general. Schaffer had standing orders to assume command if Max appeared to be losing it or fucking things up royally.

This visit was prompted by the bad behavior of an unknown element in the SGC. The day before someone had accessed the gate without permission and sent something through to the Alpha Site without observing security protocols.

Traitors always fucked up his mood.

"We're ready for the next jump sir." Carter called. Jack growled and joined his team, scowl pasted to his face.

Daniel and Sam swapped similar expressions of resignation and anticipation. The gate roared to life and shot out its familiar vortex.

"Right, let's go find out what the hell our Benedict Arnold sent through." Jack growled flipping the safety off his weapon.

The first thing Jack noted was that Max looked like hammered shit, the second was that Siler didn't look much better. Jakc's grim half smile thinned into a disapproving line.

"Holloway front and center!" He snapped. Max obeyed snapped to attention in front of the Colonel.

"If you need more personnel you're supposed to tell us, not run yourself and Siler into the ground." He growled. She flinched but otherwise remained still.

"At ease."

She melted from the rigid stance of attention to her more natural stance.

"I said at ease not dismissed!" He growled.

Her arms snapped behind her back and her feet shifted a shoulder's width apart. Her jaw flexed slightly as her jaw clenched.

"That's better, now, what the hell came through the gate from Earth?"

"You won't like it sir." Max grunted without her usual sullenness.

"I haven't liked much about this yet, relax, show me what you've got."

Max obeyed slipping into a slightly hunched, battered stance and leading Jack and the rest of the team to the research tent with Kennemore. Daniel tried to catch Max's eye. She ignored him or was too tired to pick up on it. He stifled a sigh and followed the team. He didn't like how much Max was taking on, the toll it was exacting. Her immediate response to Jack's orders bothered him.

He supposed it was to be expected, she was spending as much time training to be an officer as she was leading but it wasn't like her to be so obedient. No snark, no backhanded comments, no teasing or insults.

"Carthis?" Jack asked.

"There's an island off of the UK called Carthis." Carter said studying the paper.

"Carthis, you asked me to look into that island when Adam was in Seacouver –" Daniel said suddenly.

"Right, but why would someone send me this? How could they?" Max asked wearily.

She felt like she should know the answer, but she was working through a fog of omnipresent exhaustion and looming deadlines.

"Bait." Daniel suggested.

"If Max comes back to Earth she'll be handed over for trial." Carter agreed in an annoyed tone. She was annoyed with the obviousness of it, assuming that was the goal.

"Not necessarily, the civilian courts would have to find out I was back, and they'd have to place me under arrest and extradited to ... what was it? Arizona? Nevada?" Max asked.

"I doubt that would be a huge impediment to anyone that can use the gate to violate security procedures and send this through." Sam sighed.

Jack chewed his lip.

"Aside from bait, thoughts?" He asked.

"Perhaps it is a warning." Teal'c rumbled with a strategically raised eyebrow.

"To me? About Carthis? Why? I don't plan to go there, can't really." Max mused. She rubbed at her gritty burning eyes and let out a slow breath.

"Lieutenant Schaffer is around?" Jack asked.

"She should be." Max nodded.

"I'm assuming command Holloway, you hit your rack I don't want to see you for 24 hours, if I catch you out of your rack you will be one very sad Airman, clear?" He ordered.

She looked up at Jack, over the open box and unfolded paper. Daniel thought he saw a glimmer of her usual fire in her eyes but Max merely nodded and left quietly.

"She's not doing well." Daniel said worriedly.

"She needs a break." Jack agreed.

"Have you ever seen her so…agreeable?" Sam asked.

"Perhaps she needs assistance." Teal'c suggested.

"Yeah, I think you're right big guy. Carter get on the horn to the General, let him know we'll be staying for awhile.

"Yes sir." Carter said looking mildly surprised.

Daniel felt himself relax a hair, he didn't like the idea of returning to Earth while Max was so clearly overworked, particularly with the issue of Carthis unresolved.

"Daniel, what do you remember about Carthis?" Carter asked still studying the paper.

"Well, it's an island, it has a colorful history but nothing really stood out. There's a legend of a Matriarch that rules over the island and uses her powers to protect the island and its inhabitants."

"Matriarch?" Jack asked.

Max kicked off her boots and uniform jacket and fell onto her narrow cot. She was asleep seconds later. Schaffer walked in to give Max an updated progress report. Did a double take when she saw her commander was actually sleeping and backed out.

"Schaffer!" O'Neill shouted at the lieutenant. Schaffer stiffened then spun on her heel to salute the superior officer.

O'Niell returned the salute with a grunt and speared the tough marine with a glare.

"Sir?" She asked standing at attention.

"Schaffer, why have you allowed your superior officer to devolve to this state? Were you not given clear and explicit orders to prevent the current situation?"

"Sir! Yes Sir!"

"Explain yourself marine!" Jack felt like a jackass shouting and carrying on like some kind of hard case MTI but he was pretty sure Schaffer would respond reasonably well to the treatment.

"Lack of communication and reinforcement from Earth as well as an overloaded workforce necessitated extreme workloads! Sir!"

He chewed that over for a bit. It was probably true. In spite of best efforts the Alpha Site tended to slip by unnoticed and unheeded unless the current crises at the SGC turned the corner from potentially devastating to potentially cataclysmic in which case all the IOA and all the associated bigwigs started to squeal about the Alpha Site and demand updates. Even if it wasn't true Jack hadn't really expected Schaffer or anyone else to assumed command over Holloway's objections. He wasn't sure they'd be physically able to if Max had other ideas.

"Understood." He grumbled.

Schaffer relaxed and spared a tired smile for Jack.

"Where's the blockhead now Lieutenant?"

"Sleeping sir, finally. I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, it's easy to forget what a stubborn dedicated idiot she can be when you aren't watching her directly." He sighed.

"Sir, may I speak freely?"

"Always Schaffer."

"It's more than that. She's, well, she's driven but more so than most type As. In fact, I don't think she's really a type A personality. She'll lead and do it well but it doesn't seem to come naturally she works at it. I think it makes her a better leader, she's certainly better about listening to her people than most C.O.s I've had –"

"But?" he asked.

"But, there's something aside from this mission pushing her."

He nodded.

"Well, let's keep an eye on her."

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"Uh, well, why do you bother?"

"Sorry?" He asked surprised.

"Well, if Captain Holloway is so unorthodox and uh, well, fucked up sir, why are you bothering?"

"Because when she's not busy getting in her own way she's one of the best damn soldiers and leaders I've encountered."

"Oh. Right." Schaffer swallowed hard and smiled at Jack as she moved to leave the Colonel.

"Schaffer?" He called.

She halted and spun to face him.

"Keep an eye on her. Have you been briefed about her –"

"Special skillset? Yes sir."

"Good,listen, if you have to, you put a bullet in her. Don't hesitate."

She studied him closely searching for any sign of deceit or uncertainty in his face or stance. Finally she nodded. Some unspoken tension in the colonel's stance seemed to shift and settle.

"Sir, how, how will I know?"

"Trust me Marine, it'll be obvious." Jack replied grimly.

* * *

><p>"You should tell them." Methos murmured.<p>

They were standing on a viewing deck on the Eiffel Tower, they'd been playing tourist for two weeks. Methos had argued that anyone trying to find Doyle's executioner would likely focus on persons leaving the city immediately thereafter. Prentiss hadn't wanted to argue.

He was standing behind her, holding her close as they looked down on the city. She leaned into him.

"They'll hate me."

"It wasn't your choice, they're family, they'll be upset but they'll understand. What they won't understand is what's taking you so long to come back to them." He said gently.

"I don't think I can do it anymore."

"The BAU?" He asked.

She slipped out of his grasp and leaned against the wrought iron rail, staring down at the square below. He stood next to her and followed her gaze. They stood that way for a long while, the wind soughing and sighing through the structure, tugging at their hair and clothing.

"You're right, I have to go back one way or another." She said finally, clearly ignoring her lover's question. She reached over and took his long fingered hand in her own, the chewed nails had regrown.

"Come with me."

"I'll never leave you again." He said firmly and squeezed her hand.

"Promises promises –" She teased. He cut off the wry comment with a kiss.

They made their way down from the tower and hailed a cab.

"What about our things?" He asked.

"Buy us new stuff moneybags." She said.

He laughed.

"Passports?" He asked with a smirk.

She slipped two dark blue passports out of her pocket. .

"Got it covered. You can do an American accent?" She asked.

"Why purty lady how dare you doubt me?" He asked in a Texas drawl. She squealed with laughter and slugged him in the arm. A cab pulled up and he opened the door for Prentiss.

"After you?" He asked in a neutral west coast, broadcast TV accent.

"Charmed." She smirked and slid in.

* * *

><p>"I thought you would find me." Jarod said with a smile. He reached into his black leather coat and retrieved a pez dispenser. He popped one of the candies and offered the dispenser to Aaron Hotchner. Hotchner studied the dispenser and the cartoon character head on it.<p>

"You didn't try to hide." Hotchner said waving the candy away.

"I don't need to anymore." Jarod said with a shining grin as he put the candy dispenser away.

Hotch raised an eyebrow.

"The Centre is more interested in surviving and keeping its key personnel out of prison than me for now."

"Still, it's risky."

"Think of it as testing the water."

Hotchner nodded. If the Centre tried for him now when he was in friendly territory – so to speak – it could be a sign he might need to go into hiding again.

"Why are you here? Just to test the waters?" Hotchner asked, he was pretty certain he knew the answer.

"I heard about Emily. I'm very sorry." He said gently, tears shone in the big man's eyes as Hotchner forced himself to meet them and accept the condolences.

"Thank you."

"I also need to find Methos."

"I don't know where he is." Hotchner said immediately.

Jarod deflated slightly. He hadn't expected Hotchner would know, not consciously at least. He'd never really appreciated his friend's talent for disappearing before now. But numerous database searches and wearing out every contact Jarod could think of had produced nothing.

"Seacouver?" Hotchner suggested.

Jarod shook his head.

"Not for awhile."

"He…he had a rough time after Carthis." Hotchner said evenly.

Jarod nodded, "Joe said he took off but that was months ago, before…"

"He was involved, tried to help her but…"

Jarod nodded again.

"I read the report."

Hotchner frowned ever so slightly.

"Don't worry, someone that didn't know he was involved wouldn't figure it out from the report but –"

"You knew what to look for." Hotchner said sharply. "Why do you need to see him?"

"Carthis, he needs to know some things."

* * *

><p>"Checking your voicemail?" Prentiss asked as Methos hurried to a lone and, if it were not located in an airport, anachronistic payphone.<p>

"More or less." He said and called Joe's cell.

"You got five minutes to tell me why you're calling me at four A.M. from a number I don't know." A sleepy sounding Joe snarled. Methos looked up at a digital clock on the wall of the terminal and winced.

"Sorry Joe, I forgot about the time differences."

"Methos?"

"I'm in D.C. with Prentiss."

"Look man shit's a mess here. Max has gone off the radar, Mac is practically camped outside the SGC's gates, and Jarod was in here a couple weeks ago looking for you, said it had something to do with Carthis."

"Y'know, sometimes I really regret introducing myself to Macleod." Methos groused.

"Tell me about it." Joe sighed, Methos could hear his friend turn on a light and clear his throat.

"What do you know about Max? O'Niell hasn't said anything?"

"He just keeps saying it's classified and she made the decision."

Methos felt a headache burrow into the base of his skull and take up residence.

"Look, man, you're family but I don't know how much longer I can do this." Joe said softly, his voice was broken.

Methos closed his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah I know Joe, I'm sorry."

"Watch your head." Joe said gruffly.

Methos hung up.

"That bad?" Prentiss asked studying his face.

He smiled wryly.

"About what I expected really."

"Max?"

"I didn't tell you about her?" Methos asked mildly knowing full well he hadn't. He didn't share much about the people in his life. A reflex honed over the years. Keeping identities separate was tricky enough without blurting out a shared acquaintance's name and blowing a hard won cover. Of course there were other reasons he didn't generally talk about Max with people that hadn't met her. Prentiss had met Max, and presumably reflexively analyzed and profiled her, still, there were aspects of Max that only made sense in the big picture. Prentiss shook her head and took his arm.

"Your homicidal protégé?" She asked with a smile.

"Well yes I suppose she is. She's had a rough time."

"She's immortal?" Prentiss asked more out of reflex than ignorance.

"Yes." Methos confirmed leading them out of the terminal.

"An immortal working for the U.S. military?" She asked carefully.

"It's a bit more complicated than that." He sighed.

They got into a cab and continued to speak in hushed tones. A plastic barrier and the noise of the street muffled their conversation from the driver.

"Max works for a secret program within the U.S. Military ostensibly under the purview of the USAF. In practice it's overseen by an international committee."

"What? An organization like that would have to be public knowledge –"

"Bare with me love. The committee was created after the military was forced to involve governments outside the U.S. –"

"Wait, you're talking about something secret that the USAF – don't tell me you're talking about aliens." She hissed.

Methos smiled vaguely and gave her a short, sharp, affirmative nod.

She made an annoyed scoffing noise and he took her hands in his.

"I swear to you, it's true. I can't tell you too much it's not safe for you –"

"Not safe!" She snapped, she was tired of him protecting her by treating her like a mushroom, kept in the dark and fed on shit.

"Shhh, they won't come after you but it would expose you, make you vulnerable to interested parties." He said intently.

"Listen, Max is…if things were different she'd be a hunter or she might even cross your desk."

"She's a serial killer?" Prentiss asked studying Methos' face.

"Yes and no, look technically speaking we're all serial killers, usually because we've no choice, but hunters are different, they choose it because they like it or need it."

"And your friend Max?"

"Both, potentially. Look, her first death was brutal, she woke up wearing rags, covered in blood. She spent months trying to put her life back together then went after the man that killed her. Mind you, she didn't realize he'd killed her at the time. She found him and …well then I foundher. Macleod and I did what we could to sort her out but the damage was done. She's a compulsive killer Prentiss, a monster by most definitions –"

"An immortal serial killer is working for a secret military organization that deals with aliens?" She hissed studying his face.

"I know what it sounds like, just…just let me finish. Please."

Prentiss held his gaze then nodded, she cut a glance toward the cabbie, he appeared to be preoccupied with negotiating traffic.

"Look, Max is severely fucked up but she's aware of it, also and more importantly her first priority is survival and hunting immortals and killing _mortals_ is a great way to die young. She's stubborn and vicious, self-sacrificing and loyal – once you've earned it. She's also capable of being one of the most deadly people I've ever met."

"She doesn't sound like a sociopath or a psychopath."

"She's not."

"Then why does she kill?"

"Call it a misfire in her survival wiring, everything is a threat to her, everyone. Therefore, given a chance and enough provocation, she'll kill you first. It isn't personal it's just how she works."

Emily mulled it over.

"She's aware of her impulses?"

"Absolutely."

"You said she's loyal once you've earned it? How did this organization earn it?"

"They saved her life, sort of, it's a long story and it's not mine to tell really."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because she's stopped communicating and Macleod is making a fuss."

"And?"

"And there's a chance I'll have to go talk some sense into him."

"_We_ will have to go."

"Right." He agreed the vaguest hint of pink coloring his cheeks.

"What else? I heard Jarod's name."

"He was in Seacouver looking for me."

"Jarod, I didn't think I'd ever see him again."

Methos didn't answer he was looking out the cab's window.

"Hey, what is it?" She asked gently. Her anger was fading replaced with concern for her lover and distracted by trying to process the apparent existence of aliens.

"Something happened to us on Carthis, all of us, I think it changed Jarod."

Emily thought of the snatches she recalled, the bits of dreams.

"I know, I don't know what but he's at the center of it. Do you have any guesses?"

He thought about a rooftop meeting and a headache.

"Maybe, more suspicions than anything else right now."

"Well, here's a question, how did she do it?"

"Who?"

"Jarod's mother, she managed to lure us into that room and then … I don't really remember, but how did she lure us in? Why? How did she manage to do whatever she did?"

"Too many questions." Methos growled.

* * *

><p>"You think he'll come here?" Aaron asked.<p>

"He loved Prentiss, he'll be here."

Hotchner studied Jarod's face.

"How did you know I'd be here?" Jarod asked.

"It's the closest restaurant to your hotel and it is frequented by local law enforcement and government agents."

Jarod smiled and nodded.

"That's how I know Methos will come back to the city." Jarod said and sipped his ginger ale.


	13. In Due Time

**I lied. Enjoy the new, but super short chapter :)  
><strong>

Jarod liked roofs; he liked the fresh air, the view, the excitement of a city seen from above. It was also good for security. It was pretty difficult to sneak up on a man on a roof, could be pretty hard to escape from a roof too but he was willing to take that risk. Methos was a friend, well, had been.

The city looked clean, bright, shining and full of potential from where Jarod stood. The urine and garbage stinking alleys, the gangs and violence, the desperate poverty and despair, all of it was washed away by cool winds, distant sounds muffled by concrete, and height.

He heard the steel access door to the roof open as a sharp insistent headache clamped onto his temples. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he turned to his guest.

Methos looked…older, he was unshaven, two days of growth darkening his chin, hair shaggy brushing his collar and cheekbones. He wore the standard knee length coat and boots, a tailored pair of jeans and a silk shirt.

"Nice jacket." Methos said drolly. Jarod wore his usual gear, leather jacket, dark jeans and boots and a dark shirt.

"Saves time in the morning." He said warmly and walked toward Methos.

"Smart ass kid." Methos glowered and the two men embraced. Jarod pulled away first.

"You're really alive." Methos marveled.

"Yeah, thanks to you." Jarod agreed.

Methos held the other man's gaze for a few seconds.

"How's your head?" He asked quietly.

Jarod's smile faltered and melted into a puzzled expression.

"My headache? I- it's gone." He admitted still looking puzzled.

Methos sighed heavily and nodded.

"It started just before I arrived and went away as soon as you saw me." It wasn't a question.

"Y-yeah." Jarod admitted he was staring hard at Methos, brow furrowed, fear plucking at his instincts.

Methos didn't speak again. He looked sad, eyes drifting away from Jarod and to the cityscape. The sun was setting, casting a forgiving softening light over the city.

"I'm sorry Jarod." He said finally.

Jarod slowly sat on the intake of an air conditioning unit. His mind whirling, the implications clear now. He closed his eyes, a single tear slipped down the plane of his cheek, quivered at the corner of his mouth.

"There's no chance you're wrong?" He asked hoarsely.

"We can check." Methos said quietly, his tone was flat.

"I can't kill Methos."

Methos was quiet. He knew that wasn't true, he knew that Jarod _could_ kill but would he do it to defend himself?

"You're certain?" Jarod asked again, his tone was a hair shy of pleading.

Methos closed his eyes, face twisted in pain for a moment. Jarod sat behind him unable to see his friend's face. Methos opened his eyes; they shone bright in the fading sunlight.

"I'm so sorry Jarod."

"D'you think that's what they saw in our blood?" Jarod asked his voice was tight and thick with emotion. Methos looked over his shoulder. The big man was staring at his clenched fists held in his lap.

Methos turned, the sound of his heels grating on the roof seemed unnatural loud. He crouched at Jarod's side.

"No, I don't think so, you…" Methos paused, thought about how to phrase his next words, "this…I don't think it was supposed to happen to you. I think you were a Pretender and that's what they saw in your…_our_ blood."

"That's why you've lived so long, why you're so resilient...you're a Pretender." Jarod croaked. Methos nodded slowly.

"Yes, I think so." He agreed, his voice was soft and lifeless. He had been pondering the anomalies in his blood versus Jarod's since their last meeting on another roof. It was the only thing that made sense. The only reason he could adapt to a civilized world, cage the horseman, become a better man. It hadn't been his will power it had been his innate nature. He was a Pretender, had been his whole life. That was why Kronos, Caspian, even Silas had died, they couldn't adapt, they couldn't slip into a new role as easily as breathing the way he could. They couldn't Pretend like he did. With that revelation he shrugged off a burden of guilt, self loathing, and baseless hate. The feelings lingered, like familiar injuries, like a loose tooth that had to be prodded but he was...healing? Was that the word? He shook his thoughts away.

"I don't want your life Methos." Jarod said looking into Methos' face, his voice cracking.

"I didn't want you to have it either." Methos soothed and took Jarod's hands in his own. He was reminded suddenly, forcefully, of a child he'd raised, small hands in his own, a tear stained face, the same face older smeared with soot and blood, dead eyes staring at a cruel sky.

Methos blinked hard, willing the memory away and looked into Jarod's eyes again. This man was the closest thing to blood kin he'd ever had. He would teach him to live, teach him to defend himself and if Jarod wouldn't actually fight then Methos would.

"We don't have to worry about this now –"

"Can you fix it?"

Methos shook his head tears falling from his eyes unheeded.

"No, there's…" He swallowed, "there's only one way to end it Jarod."

"Okay." The Pretender said firmly. For a heartbeat Methos thought Jarod was agreeing to suicide, then the big man rose, Methos stood as well.

"It's going to get cold up here." Jarod said wiping the back of his hand across his tear wet cheeks.

Again Methos was struck with the unconscious honesty, the child like quality of the gesture. He shook the feeling away and lead the way to the door.

Some things could not be undone.

**Did I just do that? Did I really draw that out for like two stories? Fuck yeah I did. Lemme know what you think...**


	14. Mending

"Morgan?" Methos asked into the receiver. When he'd asked to speak with the lead BAU agent the switchboard had transferred him to Morgan. Jarod and Prentiss stood a few feet behind him making small talk.

"Who is this?"

"Guess."

"I don't have time for your bullshit Ben." Morgan snapped. Methos let the agent's annoyance wash over him.

"I know but this can't wait, can you and the team meet me? That bar I met Hotchner at would be perfect."

Long silence."

"Hotch and Rossi aren't here and we're on standby."

"I don't think I can come to you, I'm bringing someone." Methos said levelly.

More silence.

"Half an hour."

"We'll be there, in the back."

"Better be." Morgan said shortly.

"One day you two are going to have to put your toys down and make friends." Prentiss said lightly as Methos turned away from the phone.

"She has a point, aren't you a little old for machismo?" Jarod asked with an arched eyebrow.

For a split second Methos almost said something venomous, something disproportionately cruel, instead he tossed his companions a sour halfhearted glare and muttered something about children before gently pushing past them wearing a small smile, inwardly bothered by the impulse to cruelty.

They were standing outside the bar in question. Methos directed them to the rear. It was early enough in the day that only the bar area was close to full. He'd been mildly surprised that it was open but assumed that Quantico was a 24 hour operation and anyone coming off shift had a right to a drink.

"They're coming?" Prentiss asked. She was tearing a napkin into pieces.

They had discussed how to approach the team but had finally decided that inviting them to neutral ground with Prentiss in plain sight would be best. Dramatic reveals would be too likely to incense and enflame already tender feelings.

After they'd sat for a few minutes, drinks untouched Prentiss rose and excused herself to the restroom. She was nauseas and felt flushed. Methos moved to follow her but Jarod gently convinced him to stay behind.

"She doesn't need you hovering." Jarod said with a smile. Methos grunted and sat only to rise again as Garcia entered the bar followed by Seaver, Reid, and Morgan. Morgan hesitated at the doorway and another blonde woman entered, J.J.

They spotted Methos' tall form and made their way to him.

"So much for no surprise reveal." Jarod sighed standing.

"What's this about?" Morgan said sharply then glanced at Jarod.

"Is this your big secret?" Morgan demanded. The team had spread around the large table, fanning out to either side of Morgan.

"Not exactly." Methos said stiffly. He could see Prentiss leaving the restroom, head down gaze focused on negotiating the tables and chairs between her and the group.

Morgan and the rest followed Methos' gaze and spotted Prentiss.

The room could have been muffled in cotton batting or the immortal suddenly struck deaf for all he could hear from them, no soft susurration of breath, rustle of clothing, creak of leather shoe, or gasp of surprise.

Then the moment passed and the team engulfed their friend. Hugs cries of surprise, tears, questions, overwhelmed Prentiss teared up herself. It was Morgan that fought for order finally. Methos watched detached and analytical as they settled and sat around the table. Prentiss sat between Garcia and Reid. Morgan across from Methos and the rest scattered.

"How?" Morgan asked delighted but stunned and suspicious.

"It wasn't her idea, or her choice." J.J. said quietly. Immediately the mood soured and grew cold.

"You knew?" Reid asked in a tiny aching voice. Even Garcia looked hurt.

"The State Department…" J.J. started to say then looked away from them.

"They wanted her to go after Doyle." Methos said casually. Morgan cut a glance at Methos. Methos was choosing to direct their angry questions, their hurt and outrage at himself rather than J.J. or Prentiss.

"Emily was the perfect weapon, she had leverage over him, knew him better than he knew himself, and she certainly had plenty of motivation to snuff him out." Methos said in a colder tone. Even Morgan flinched.

"You didn't –" Garcia muttered looking at Prentiss with an agony of sympathy in her face.

"No, she didn't. If she had it wouldn't have been so…thorough." Methos said in the same icily detached voice an almost sneer flickered over his lips. Jarod looked at his mentor with a tense expression.

"It's been almost three weeks Emily." Morgan said.

"We were laying low for a couple weeks." Prentiss admitted, then took a deep breath, "I … I was afraid you guys would be pissed. I wanted to contact you so badly but I knew if Doyle figured things out you'd be in danger again and he would be more prepared than ever. I'm so sorry you've been hurt."

"You told him?" Reid asked his tone even more hurt as he gestured at Methos.

"No. _I _found _her_, in Paris."

"You were hunting Doyle." Seaver said. He glanced at the pale blond with perfect coral lips and somehow still innocent eyes. Her gaze was steady.

"Yes I was, and I got him." No pride, no crowing or satisfaction in his voice just dull mindless certainty. Seaver licked her lips and looked at Morgan.

Jarod rose and when he returned it was with a tray of coffees – the agents were on call after all – and three beers. He set the beers in front of Prentiss, and Methos and kept one for himself. It was only as he sat that he realized what a further demarcation the drinks were. He licked his lips and thought about apologizing but let it go as the group slowly fell into a more natural conversation.

J.J. it turned out had returned to the BAU to replace Prentiss. Unsurprisingly most of the questions were directed at Prentiss a few at Jarod and after a half hour or so the group actually relaxed.

Methos rose to use the restroom. he noted Morgan at his heels as he left the group. but ignored the agent until he was washing his hands. Morgan stood by the bathroom exit, arms folded studying Methos. Methos carefully dried his hands and then faced Morgan.

"Do you have a problem agent Morgan?" He asked mildly. The big agent no longer made him nervous and he honestly felt no animosity toward the man.

Morgan studied him for a long moment. For the first time since Morgan had met Methos he looked healthy, skin flushed with color though still pale, frame weighted with lean muscle, cheekbones no longer knives pressed to pallid skin, eyes clear and glittering in the fluorescent light, no more bags looming. The immortal's stance was confident but not aggressive. The half grown beard and shaggy hair added age to him.

"You look good." Morgan said finally.

"Thanks?" Methos suggested, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smile.

"Can I ask you why you killed Doyle?"

Methos thought about that.

"It wasn't just for vengeance."

Morgan nodded encouragingly.

"I had Emily, she was safe, and I really honestly and truly could not give less of a fuck about Ian Doyle."

"But?" Morgan pressed.

"But Emily did, and she's tough, she's titanium hard and can be ruthless in defense of the innocent but I couldn't let her kill Doyle. Killing with calculation, in cold blood, and with forethought, that's not something that you shrug off with a few counseling sessions and a group hug. You don't come back from that. That was a price I wasn't willing to let her pay for her freedom, or her life."

"You paid it for her?"

"Don't be ridiculous I crossed that line eons ago." Methos sighed.

"You still let her see you execute Doyle, her former lover."

Methos licked his lips and met Morgan's warm brown eyes.

"Yes I did."

"Knowing she might leave you for it."

Silence, their eyes locked.

"Knowing she might think of you as a murderer and a monster, you still pulled that trigger, not once but multiple times."

Methos swallowed and nodded.

"Why?" Morgan asked, for once there was no accusation in his voice.

"Because I love her, whether she stays with me or leaves me and finds someone else, has children, wherever her life takes her I love her and I won't stand there and let her…", he closed his eyes, lowered his face for a moment and then continued with a choked voice, "won't let her become a murderer if I can stop it."

Morgan's face had softened, he raised a hand, it hovered hesitantly for a moment then gripped Methos' upper arm.

"I get it man."

Methos straightened, set his shoulders back and nodded.

"You aren't going to cuff me?" Methos asked only partially joking.

"Ian Doyle was a parasite but what you did was sanctioned by the State Department and I know better than to go head to head with them."

"You're okay with vigilante justice?"

"No, not really but I also don't want to lose my job or get Prentiss arrested and there's no damn point putting cuffs on you."

"Right. Well then. You said Hotch and Rossi were on a case?" Methos asked clearly and lamely changing the subject as they exited the restroom.

Reid stood immediately outside, brow furrowed as if in deep thought or a bout of solid constipation.

"You okay man?" Morgan asked.

"Yeah I'm fine." Reid said tetchily and slipped past them.

Reid slipped his cell from his pocket and dialed Hotchner.

"Hotch hey yeah. It is? I'll tell the team…Hotch something's come up about Prentiss."

Long pause followed by the distant distorted tone of a responding voice over a bad line.

"She's not dead."


	15. Bang Boom

Max woke slowly, a gradual shifting like rocks tumbling down a cliff face heralding a landslide. First her hearing came back, the distant dulled roar of rain on the metal roof of the shelter, the muffled sounds of voices outside her door. Then slowly scent, the familiar scent of wet uniforms, oxygen rich air, the wool blanket on her cot. Sensation arrived, the scratch of the wool under her fingers, finally taste, the foul taste of a too-dry mouth. Her eyes fluttered open, she rolled onto her side and coughed, put her feet on the cool metal plating of the pre-fab structure and cradled her face in her hands for a moment. The day before rushed back to her.

"Christ." She moaned, coughed and looked around for her boots. She tried very hard not to remember Jack's disappointment and anger. Then she remembered the message and let out a groaning sigh as she tugged on one boot. Some mornings weren't worth waking up for.

She was dressed and wandering to the communal showers, lost in thought when she heard a distant shout and the distinctive crack of small arms fire. She sprinted to an external alarm and slapped the button. Immediately klaxons and sirens rang out alerting the camp.

She was unarmed.

* * *

><p>"Ah crap what now?" Jack growled as the sirens and klaxons rang out. Immediately after arriving Jack had begun sending non-essential personnel back through the gate; the site was fully compromised and couldn't be salvaged unless they figured out who the traitor was and what information had been compromised. Until then Jack wasn't risking lives by keeping people there when they didn't need to be. Sam and Daniel were with the remaining scientists, Teal'c and a handful of Marines were with Jack doing inventory and packing up gear to send back to the SGC.<p>

"Arm up let's find out what the rackets about." Jack ordered in his usual acerbic but efficient tone. Sam and Daniel met them outside the tent.

"Any news?" Jack asked as he checked over his rifle.

"No sir, we were packing up the last of the lab when we heard the siren."

"Right, Max?"

"She was still sleeping an hour ago." Daniel said.

"Teal'c get Max, Sam you and Danny get the eggheads together, keep 'em live, Marines you're with me let's go see who's knocking on our front door."

"Colonel O'Neill once I have Max Holloway –"

"Check with Sam and Daniel then come find us."

* * *

><p>"Hey, what's going on?" Max said by way of greeting.<p>

"We are to return to Daniel Jackson and Samantha Carter." Teal'c rumbled.

"Right, you got another one of those?" She asked nodding toward the rifle. Teal'c tossed it to her to pulled a length of piping used as a gutter drain from the side of a prefab building. Max stared at him for a moment. Then he smiled, she chuckled and nodded.

The half crouched and jogged back to where Sam and Daniel had gathered the last inhabitants of the Alpha site.

"Orders?" Max asked Sam.

Sam looked over the group.

"They'll be fine here, Teal'c and Daniel stay here, Max you know the terrain better than any of us." Sam said quickly.

Max nodded and lead the way. The gunshots were sporadic and scattered.

"Colonel O'Neill?" Sam said over the radio. Static answered back.

"Teal'c fall back to the emergency shelter, lock it down."

"Understood." Teal'c replied.

The emergency shelter was the first structure they'd built. It was basically an enormous subterranean steel box. The entrance was a bunker with a two inch steel door.

"Think it's that bad?" Max asked.

Sam didn't answer. Max followed on Sam's heels as they drew closer to the gunfire they spotted a downed Marine lying on the crest of a hill. Max left Sam at the tree line and crept forward. The Marine was dead, chest full of lead.

"Earth weapons." Max said returning to Sam.

"NID?" Sam suggested. Max shrugged.

"Tracks lead back into the woods about a hundred feet ahead." Max said Sam nodded and took point.

The ground where the tracks re-entered the woods was churned and disturbed. Max frowned down at it as Sam took a closer look.

"Sam!" The radio on Sam's shoulder squawked.

"Sir?"

"We're pinned down!"

"We're following your tracks."

"We'd appreciate some back up!," the too near sound of gunfire "Sooner rather than later Major!" Jack groused.

* * *

><p>The women halted at the edge of a clearing. Twelve armed humans in dingy gray fatigues were firing at a hummock of roots and dirt. Max assumed Jack and the marines were trapped behind it. The attacker's backs were toward Max.<p>

Max glanced at Sam. The two women knelt behind thick evergreen tree trunks. Braced their weapons against the trunks and carefully opened fire. Half the attackers fell before their compatriots realized what was happening then _they_ tried to run. As they fled gunfire erupted from the other side of the hummock and more went down. The last one dropped his weapon and cried surrender just as Max had leveled a kill shot on his throat. Her hand ached to squeeze the trigger but she lowered her weapon and rose, she followed Sam's lead and they entered the clearing quickly disarming the dead which turned out to be all of them, even the most minimally wounded were dead.

Jack and seven marines appeared over the barrier.

"Took you long enough." Jack greeted them. Sam smiled at him.

"You lost one and gained two?" Max asked.

"Security patrol, they were pinned down." Jack said explaining how one marine had been killed but Jack now had seven instead of the original six with him.

"Who started the shooting?" Sam asked.

They did Ma'am." A sergeant replied. He was young for his rank but fit and seemed capable.

"He better tell yeah." Jack said and began examining the enemy combatants. The single prisoner was under close guard.

"We were conducting a routine patrol when the chevrons on the stargate activated. We tried to radio in to base camp but our radios weren't working."

"We had some similar problems." Sam sighed.

"We attempted to peacefully contain the enemy forces then returned fire once hostile action occured."

Max felt a headache start. She had a hard time dealing with official speak on her better days, this, was not one of those.

"Right, so how'd you end up back here with the colonel?"

"We encountered Colonel O'Neill and were forced to seek a better firing position."

Max nodded along.

"Sir?" Sam called.

"They're dead; we'll have to interrogate the prisoner for any answers." Jack sighed.

"Jack, these weapons, they're pretty damn new." Max said the smell of preservative grease still clung to them. She eyed them closer and frowned.

"I don't think these are on the civilian market yet sir." She added.

"She's right Colonel, we've been training with these for six months they're due to rotate in and replace our current primary weapons. They're lighter, more accurate and are multifunctional." The sergeant said. He demonstrated using the weapon as a close fire weapon, adjusted the sights and barrel for long distance accuracy and then did something Max didn't quite see but resulted in the weapon morphing into a cross between a short stabbing sword and a stubby staff.

"Holy shit." Max grinned.

"Sir, I think these men committed suicide, most of their wounds aren't fatal." Sam murmured.

"How did they get weapons like this?" Max asked quietly. Jack turned to the prisoner. He was young, barely twenty, scared, blood marked his gray uniform, but no insignia or name were evident.

"Name?" Jack asked. The boy licked his lips nervously and glanced around the clearing.

"Name?" Jack growled.

The boy looked at his feet.

"Max." Jack called. Max rose and slipped into the role of scary crazy interrogator.

"Are you sure?" She asked hesitantly.

"Sir, after last time –"

"I'm sure. This scumbag and his pals killed a good marine today. They probably meant to kill us." Jack snarled.

Max licked her lips hungrily and moved toward the prisoner.

"Sir you ordered me last time to warn you, remind you – " Sam said nervously. The marines were silent and stoic. Whether they'd realize the SG team was running a ruse or were willing to allow them to torture a prisoner Max wasn't sure, though she assumed it was the first. SG-1's reputation was pretty good regarding prisoners. Well, generally speaking.

"Ben Parkins." The boy blurted and flexed his jaw. Max glanced at Jack.

"Who sent you?" Jack asked.

"I-" the boy said then stiffened and fell back limp.

"Don't touch him!" Sam shouted as the nearest marine moved to administer CPR, she froze and stared at the Major.

"He took poison." Sam said sharply.

"Ah crap." Jack groaned.

* * *

><p>Max relaxed on the walk back.<p>

"You look chipper." Jack commented.

"Things could be worse." Max replied. Jack raised an eyebrow.

"Sir should we evacuate?" Sam asked.

"Yeah I think so. We'll take essential items through the gate but that's it. Everything else we'll leave, if the IOA want it back badly enough they can send their own people to retrieve it. This place is hot."

"What are they after? There's nothing significant here, that's part of the reason this planet was chosen. There's no ore deposits, no ruins, no weird energy signatures, just, nothing, there isn't even an indigenous population." Max sighed and adjusted her weapon.

"Daniel?" Jack called over the radio.

"We're fine Colonel, what's your status?"

"We lost a marine."

"Ah I'm sorry to hear that." Daniel sighed. Max marveled at the genuine regret in his voice. It wasn't that she was _happy_ about the dead marine but, on the other hand, she wasn't especially broken up over it. She was used to losing team mates and soldiers. The fact that SG-1 managed to stay intact was a miracle, and certainly far from the norm. Particularly considering their usual missions. But Daniel, flying in the face of all logic and human nature took every loss as though it were a personal friend. Max envied him at times, the way he connected with people. It wasn't an act either, she was sure of that. She'd seen him lie and he was awful at it, no if it were an act or a lie then it was such a deeply ingrained reaction that he was fooling himself too.

"We're on our way back to you get everyone ready to evac ASAP."

"Underway hey what happened out there?" Daniel squawked back, the radio forcing the timbre and tone of his voice up slightly, giving his words a hysterical edge.

"Brief you in person."

"Right, see you soon then."

"No people huh?" Jack asked resuming the interrupted conversation. Max forced her attention back to the problem at hand.

"The IOA thought it was best to choose an unpopulated planet considering the trouble they've er we've had with some indigenous populations." Sam offered.

"Right." Jack grumbled.

"Still, it's weird right? There's nothing to prevent this planet from having humans or another sentient species on it, is there Carter?" Jack asked.

"Not that I've noticed Sir."

"Maybe the Goa'uld and the Ancients just never bothered to bring slaves here or establish a colony." Max suggested.

They could see the camp ahead now. It looked deserted, the sirens and klaxons were silent. The team cautiously approached, none wanted to catch a bullet fired by a nervous sentry.

"Over here!" Daniel called. He was standing at the exit of the secure bunker as the personnel inside filed out carrying boxes and packs of truly essential items only. Notes, data disks, a few artifacts and so on. A few carried sidearms and of them maybe three looked like they both knew how to hold them and could actually shoot someone.

"Any problems?" Jack asked.

"Negative." Teal'c intoned with a nod at the scurrying personnel. He had found a staff weapon from somewhere, likely the armory and held it with casual expertise as his gaze flickered across the terrain beyond the camp. He stayed close to the barely armed personnel.

"I think if you hadn't ordered an immediate evacuation there might've been." Daniel said wryly.

* * *

><p>"I'm blaming you for this." Jack muttered as he and Max watched the last of the staff file into the wormhole.<p>

"Midas touch?" Max asked.

"Nah, opposite of that, very very much the opposite, first that whole debacle in the desert –"

"You're starting there?"

"What you want me to go through your whole sordid past of suspiciously terrible luck? I don't think we have that kind of time."

Max smirked.

"So, first you wipe out like a hundred people and wreck a _very_ expensive suite of survival gear, not least of which was that weirdo moisture reclamation suite which rang up at like a hundred K, now this? Sheesh. You're amazing, freaking talented beyond belief."

"It's a dirty job –"

"But someone's gotta do it." Jack sighed dramatically and lead the way down to the wormhole.

"Right, exactly, and why not me I mean –" Her words were cut off as she entered the wormhole.

"- at least I'm on your side." She finished as she stepped out of the wormhole and into the gate room.

The SGC gate room was stuffed with armed guards, weapons drawn, and expressions tense with trigger fingers looking very itchy.

"No really she is." Jack snickered.


	16. What Were You Thinking?

Macleod was being a pain in the ass. He had some experience it at but his last few years dealing with Methos had taught him precisely how to harness the obnoxious son of a bitch within. He had harnessed all this training, all his creativity, and his natural mile wide stubborn streak.

He was sitting in a garishly colored rented convertible. Balloons were taped to every portion of its exterior save for a rectangular patch stretching from just behind the front wheels to just in front of the rear wheels. This portion held a sign, hand painted for that special tacky touch, multicolored letters that spelled out a cramped statement.

_The USAF's alien hunting team has kidnapped my daughter and won't give her back._

Calling Max his daughter was pushing things – to put it mildly – but was a hair more shocking than saying friend. It tugged on a few more heartstrings, made a few more people whip a quick double take, maybe inched Hammond's blood pressure a little higher.

This was the beginning of his second week doing this. He changed the signs every couple days when he felt like it. The contracted security personnel on the gate had called the local cops a few times. The first time they'd hauled Macleod off, interrogated him, made notes and turned him loose. Now, they just added a note about the call to the increasingly large file on Macleod and stayed put. He wasn't hurting anyone, wasn't inciting violence or disorder, wasn't impeding either traffic or pedestrian access. Hammond could have him hauled into the brig but on what charges? Irritating the shit out of him?

Macleod guessed or maybe assumed that Hammond could charge him with some sort of secrecy breach but…how? Any trial would have to prove that Macleod knew about the SGC and the gate, and because he was a civilian it would have to be an open trial. So the only way that Hammond could prosecute Macleod was by exposing the SGC. Then again there was the whole Guantanamo-secret-prison-disappear-you-forever tactic but Hammond wasn't that kind of man.

Macleod was leaning against the car. He wore fitted jeans, boots, a short sleeved shirt with the first few buttons undone and mirrored shades. His hair was close cropped, a smile graced his features. He knew that, based on his apparent age, most people would assume that his 'daughter' was a child. That had also factored into his decision to write the sign the way he had.

He'd been sitting outside the gate for about four hours, in two more he would break for lunch. He shifted his weight and glanced up at the clear sharp Colorado sky. He'd thought about packing up, going back to Seacouver or Paris or maybe even Glenfinnan…

But if he couldn't harass them into letting him just _talk_ to Max then…what? What did that mean? Failure? Betrayal? Abandoment? What was he doing here? Making a complete ass of himself?

Maybe. But he knew one thing for certain, if Max was expecting him, or needed him and he didn't try then it would go badly between them. Max couldn't forgive betrayal. Even Methos forgave easier than she, and with Max, well temper temper as they say.

He licked his lips and moved his gaze back to the gate. Cheyenne Mountain wasn't a particularly busy complex – at least officially – which, Macleod guessed, was at least part of the reason the local officers had given up on hauling him in. It was a long drive with no pay off. But, with the SGC in residence traffic in and out had picked up.

As he watched one of the security personnel check the paperwork of an incoming truck – it had diverted to the delivery lane allowing routine traffic to continue on without jamming the gate – and waved it through. He caught the woman glaring at him, not wanting to let an opportunity pass by he wiggled his fingers at her in a teasing wave. He wasn't sure but it looked like she'd flipped him the bird briefly before moving on to the next vehicle.

He smiled.

* * *

><p>The guards lowered their weapons and Max flashed a snide 'very funny' expression at Jack as they walked to the base of the ramp.<p>

"Debrief ten minutes." Hammond barked over the P.A. Max waved cheerfully at the General through the control room glass and earned a surprisingly wrathful glance.

"Uh, okay what'd I do?" She asked rhetorically.

"Well, first there was that thing in the desert-" Jack started in as they walked out of the gate room and down to the locker rooms.

* * *

><p>A black sedan with government plates exited the gate but didn't speed up sufficiently to enter the main access road at the posted limit, Macleod noted, he wasn't surprised when it halted in front of him. A second lieutenant wearing crisp blues got out of the rear and approached.<p>

"Good morning Lieutenant." Macleod said casually.

"General Hammond would like to speak with you."

"Doesn't he like my car? Or maybe it's my sign, I spent quite a bit of time on it –"

"Max Holloway is available for you to speak with." The lieutenant said crisply.

Macleod got in the car.

* * *

><p>"General I didn't <em>tell<em> him to –"

"Sit your ass down Holloway." Jack barked. Max had risen from her seat, angry at being yelled at by the General for Macleod's behavior.

Chagrined she planted her butt in the thin cushioned chair and stopped arguing.

"He's a security threat and if I wasn't certain it would make things worse I'd've locked him up. Now he's being brought here, you'll have ten minutes to talk to him and then an off world emergency is going to interrupt your conversation, we'll be forced to send you and SG-1 to deal with it because no one else is up to the task." The last portion was stated with such careful deliberation that Max froze for a moment.

"Oh shit, the extradition –"

"Ten minutes." Hammond growled.

The General left.

For a moment only Jack and Max were in the room.

"How did I forget about being extradited?" She asked rhetorically.

"You get ten minutes with Macleod, calm him down, make him understand that you _have_ to be off world for the foreseeable future."

"You should stay." Max said suddenly as Jack rose to leave. He frowned down at her.

"Relax Mac will be fine, I…you'll be able to come and go, he trusts you if you back me up then he'll understand he'll be able to contact you and through you me. He won't, shit, he won't freak out as much, okay?"

Jack gave her a long and critical look.

"What is with you people?" He asked getting to his feet.

Max blinked at him.

"Seriously, you're a bunch of insecure children. Macleod is not your Dad, he's barely involved in your day to day life. And isn't he like what four hundred years old? Jesus Christ grow a pair of nuts and stop wringing your hands 'cause your kid left home. Fuck."

Max blinked at him.

"Tell me how you really feel." Max smirked.

"Hey you're a head case too."

"But you looooove me." She sing-songed. He scowled.

"Look all I'm saying is if you want him out of your hair, this is the best tactic to use."

He glowered. She smiled a beauty queen smile.

"Why do I even bother?"

"Because your VCR broke and you're a Neanderthal without a DVR box so I recorded all the Simpsons episodes that've aired since you shipped me off to the alpha site?"

"Deal." He growled sitting down.

* * *

><p>Macleod was frog marched into the bowels of the SGC and unceremoniously dumped in a briefing room. He blinked and realized he was facing Max and Jack O'Neill.<p>

"Well there you are shouldn't making us wait like that." Jack muttered.

Macleod blinked again. Max stood up and walked to him. Gave him a brief firm hug and stepped back.

"So, what's going on?" She asked him.

He blinked again.

"Have a seat why don't'cha?" Jack offered.

Macleod sat.

"Look I didn't mean –"

"Realx, you aren't in trouble it's just that you've only got like seven minutes so you might want to stick to important shit." Jack said yawning.

"Seven minutes?" Macleod asked.

"Yeah, we're uh, we're about to have an emergency." Max explained.

"About to?"

"Mac, focus, what the hell do you want?"

"You fell off the grid we didn't hear from you-"

"Christ, Mac I work on _another_ _planet_ okay? And by the way if I'm on this planet for too long I'm going to be extradited and charged with mass murder."

"Ah, uh right, so the emergency?" Macleod's head whirred.

"Right." Jack said leaning back and folding his arms behind his head. Max glanced at her commander and then leaned back in her chair and folded her hands over her stomach.

Macleod was quiet for a moment.

"Mass murder?"

"Long story I didn't do it, well I _did_ but it wasn't mass murder, more like aggressive self-defense. Have you heard from Adam?"

"Er, no he, his girlfriend died it's been complicated." Max's manic conversation technique was making his head hurt.

"Five minutes." Jack said staring at his watch.

"Right well if you do see him tell him to let Jack know, it's about Carthis."

"Carthis? That miserable bloody island?"

"Yep."

"Right. Okay. Look uh are you okay here?"

Max blinked at him this time.

"I'm fucking fine Mac, you'd know if I wasn't."

"Would I?"

She glared at him.

"Yeah you would you asshole. Look you're family okay? But.." she thought about what Jack had said, "but I'm all growed up now, off to like, a career. Let me go man and stop fucking up shit here. Leave Hammond and the SGC alone they're good people and you're pissing in their pool for no reason."

"I can trust you?" Mac asked Jack.

"Four minutes and yes you idiot you can." Jack drawled sounding bored. He sat up and put his boots on the floor with a dull crump.

"But seriously, if you see your buddy give him a heads up."

"I thought you were upset with him, didn't he uh blow up a shit ton of your base and steal a jeep?"

"Bygones, we're past it, in fact we're pretty progressive. I think actually, we billed the IOA for that one. Heh. See if you don't kill any of our people or threaten to invade our planet we're pretty chill." Jack mused staring at his watch.

"Three minutes." He added.

"Max?"

"It's fine, honestly, look if you need to contact me or whatever get ahold of Jack, he'll arrange it. I'll be fine, promisies."

He kept staring at her.

"Two minutes."

"No way you _just _ said –"

"I lied." Jack grunted.

"Right, well, really Mac thanks for the concern but –"

"You're late to an emergency. Right." He nodded and stood.

A klaxon and lights started to ring out.

"Ah, my song." Max said standing. She hugged Macleod again, this time with real feeling. He returned the embrace and looked into her face.

"You really have turned out okay." He said gently.

"In spite of myself." She said with a smile.


	17. Details

"I hate this shit." Max sighed.

"What? Walking through hostile territory while completely exposed?" Jack snarked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, yeah, but no, I meant this landscape. Give me trees, hills, mountains, woods y'know?"

"You're whining about the scenery?"

"Yep."

They were quiet for a while.

"I hate deserts." Jack said finally.

"Yeah?"

"Yep. Can't stand 'em."

"Makes sense."

Another long silence punctuated by the swish and hiss of grass against their uniforms as they waded through hip high prairie grass and flowers.

"What with the sun and all the sand." Max said finally.

"People always try to kill me in deserts."

"Specifically deserts?"

"Well, no but pretty often."

"Huh."

More walking.

"Daniel are you sure this is the correct planet?" Jack asked over the radio.

"I'm beginning to have doubts Colonel. We haven't found anything either." Daniel squawked back.

"Alright, give it another ten minutes then head back to the gate." Jack sighed.

"Sir I think we found it." Sam's voice crackled.

"Your location?"

Carter relayed directions. Jack changed their course.

"So how do you feel about forests?" Max asked.

"Get taken prisoner a lot in forests."

"Really? Huh, I kinda like 'em."

* * *

><p>Carter, Teal'c and Daniel were gathered in the shade of some kind of monument when Max and Jack found them.<p>

"Well this is…big." Jack offered.

"Yeahh it appears to be roughly similar to the structure Adam described on Carthis." Daniel muttered staring up at it.

"Except that it's not underground and it's huge." Max smirked.

Daniel gave her an irritated look. "The inner chamber is sealed off but it's consistent with -"

"Right, can we get in?" Jack interrupted.

"I…don't know. Here take a look." Daniel said and lead them to the entrance.

"Huh ancient graffiti?" Jack asked running a hand over stick figure drawings that seemed to jar against the architecture and aesthetic.

"Possibly." Daniel mused.

"Daniel, the energy readings are spiking." Sam cautioned.

"Energy readings?"

"There's a low level E.M. field around the building."

"And it got stronger when we approached?" Jack asked.

"Yes sir."

"Wait, did it get stronger when we approached or when I did?" Max asked with a frown.

"Why would it react differently –"

"Because she's immortal." Sam said cutting off Daniel.

"Eh?" Jack asked.

"Adam said that something at Carthis changed his friend, allowed him to come back from death as an immortal – when he wasn't a pre-immortal - right?" Sam asked then kept going without waiting for an answer, "So it stands to reason if this facility is similar then it would react strongly to an immortal."

"So the building likes Max?" Daniel asked.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Hey how 'bout I stay out here while you guys –"

"I don't think that's a good idea." Sam said cutting Max off. "We may only be able to interact with the structure if Max is with us, and now that it's been alerted it's possible some kind of security system has been activated."

"Security?" Jack asked glancing at Max.

"Adam said that when they entered the structure on Earth they were incapacitated by some kind of object on the ceiling."

"Ah crap." Jack grunted.

Max sighed and slipped her rifle over her head and leaned it against the building. She paused then removed the sidearm and laid it next to the rifle.

"Right, well, hang back a bit." She said nervously.

"We're right behind you." Daniel said, Max hesitated and then flashed a grin at him.

"I know." She said and walked up to the door. She waited for thirty seconds then relaxed slightly.

"Heh guess –" She started then the door irised open with shocking speed and Max disappeared.

Teal'c, Jack, Carter and Daniel raced forward.

"Max!" Carter shouted into the dark stairwell that had appeared.

A low groan drifted up to them.

"Holloway! Report!" Jack shouted, hoping to rouse her.

"It's okay! I…shit."

The quartet exchanged an impatient look.

"Max!" Jack barked.

"Sorry uh it's dark…I can't move!"

"Are you tied?" Daniel shouted.

"Uh no I just…I can't feel my arms or legs!"

"Alright, Teal'c you and Daniel stay up here until we give an all clear." Jack sighed. He thumbed the light on his weapon and started down, Sam followed.

The stairs were narrow and uncomfortably shallow by the time they reached the main floor their legs and calfs ached from the strain of maintaining balance on the awkward surface.

Jack gestured for Sam to follow as he slowly moved forward they leap frogged through the room ensuring it was free of potential hostiles. Only then did Jack move toward Max.

She was laying on her back in a mimicry of the Vitruvian man. She lay on a stone surface etched with designs and symbols.

"Well hi, fancy meeting you here." Max gritted through clenched teeth.

"Teal'c head on down, the stairs are a bitch but it's sorta safe."

"Understood."

"Are you okay?" Sam asked crouching outside of the designs.

"Sure, I can't move and everything that _was_ numb is now pins and needles but I'll live." She said wryly.

"Carter you got any idea what's holding her?"

"Not yet sir, it's possible she was injured and is slowly healing –"

"You ever break your back?" Jack asked Max.

She thought about it.

"No, I don't think so; pretty sure I'd remember that."

"I'll take some readings." Sam said and stood up.

Teal'c and Daniel arrived.

"Danny, thoughts?"

Daniel was staring at Max.

"I don't recognize the symbols but it looks like some of the inscriptions might be Mesopotamian Cuneiform."

"Can you read it?"

"Uh not yet give me a minute." He said and bent to work.

"Right, well, while they work Teal'c could you go back to the gate and let the SGC know what's going on?"

Teal'c nodded and went back up the stairs.

"Can you read me Teal'c?" Jack asked a few minutes later.

"Affirmative Colonel O'Neill." Teal'c reported.

"Daniel?"

"It's going to take some time Jack, cuneiform is a tough language it was one of the first written –"

"Right fine, ETA?"

"An hour, at least." Daniel snapped.

"Hey uh, not to like rush things but I …" Max whispered and then arched her back and screamed as arcs of electricity shot from her body and through the encircling designs. Jack snatched Daniel back from the designs and Sam gripped her rifle.

Jack drew his sidearm and looked around the chamber.

"Max!" Daniel shouted.

She opened her eyes.

"It's…okay." She groaned. "It's…doing something with my quickening…I'm okay." She insisted.

"Daniel figure this out!" Jack ordered. He didn't put his weapon away.

"Sir, these energy readings are… I think she's being used as a power source." Sam said frowning at her data pad.

"A _power _source?"

Jack lowered his sidearm and aimed it at the outside of the ring pulsing with blue electricity.

"Watch it Danny!" He shouted and opened fire. The bullets pinged off the stone surface chipping and gouging it. O'Neill ran through a full clip, the silence throbbed. Max lay limp in the center of the ring, energy no longer flowed.

"Jesus Jack!" Daniel snapped then moved forward to check on Max.

"She's dead."

Jack helped Daniel pull her to her feet then slung her over his shoulders in a fireman's carry.

"I'll take her up, you two stay here, figure out what the hell this place is."

She revived as Jack was re-entering daylight.

"Hey." She croaked. He laid her down.

"I'm fine Jack." She lied and tried to get up.

"Right. I know that line." He said gently. Her face was etched with pain, eyes dull, skin clammy.

"Be honest, what's your status?"

"I'm not sure. Here, let's see if I can stand." She suggested. She managed to, barely.

"What happened?"

"After the door opened it was like some kind of wind threw me down the stairs. I was too stunned to move and then I _couldn't_. The energy…it was like it was taking my quickening, doing something to it and then feeding it back in to me. It didn't feel right."

"Daniel, Sam, pull out we'll come back with a bigger team."

"On our way up sir." Sam replied.

"Teal'c hold position at the gate we're coming to you."

"Understood." Teal'c responded.

"Can you walk?"

"Probably." She said. They waited for Daniel and Sam then set out.

"Daniel did you come up with anything?"

"It's hard to say Jack, look cuneiform is a difficult language even working from base knowledge, this looks like it's being used with a larger vocabulary and verb base than anything on Earth. I need Adam to take a look."

"Did you get any recordings?" Max asked. She was pale but walking.

"Yeah."

"I think the structure was looping Max's energy, it seemed to be charging something."

"Awesome, I'm a battery." Max chuckled and put a hand to her head. Sam stepped forward and slung an arm around her half supporting her.

"Thanks." Max muttered.

They kept moving. As the gat loomed into sight Jack called Teal'c.

"Teal'c dial home we're on your six, radio for a med team."

"Are you injured?" Teal'c replied with a crackling pop, they could hear the gate dialing Earth in the background.

"Max is a little battered but we're all in one piece."

"I will radio General Hammond." Teal'c replied.

By the time they reached the gate Max was barely conscious, she was slung between Daniel and Sam head lolling drunkenly, legs moving robotically.

Teal'c met them and scooped Max into his arms like a sleeping child.

"Where you been T?" Max mumbled.

"Let's go." Jack encouraged. They jogged into the wormhole with Teal'c taking the rear.

The gateroom was alive with activity two security teams, a medical team and the general.

"What happened colonel?"

"The temple bit Max." Jack sighed as Teal'c laid her on the gurney."

"Doc, whatever it was it drained her quickening used it for something else then uh put it back, at least as far as we can tell. Sam why don't you go with them see if you can help." Jack said before turning back to the general.

"We need Pierson." Jack said and braced for an earful.

"You want me to authorize access to a man responsible for several million dollars worth of damage and one of the most egregious security breaks in SGC history?"

"Yes sir."

"My office." Hammond growled.

Hammond relaxed in the office and faced Jack.

"Why?"

"I know he's a pain the ass Sir but he's also the only person Daniel thinks can crack the language at the site. He's also had direct experience with the Carthis site and is the oldest immoral we know about."

Hammond studied Jack.

"Very well Colonel but keep him close and make sure he doesn't blow anything up."

"Very good sir." Jack agreed with a tiny smile.

* * *

><p>"Hey want a job?"<p>

It took Methos a few seconds to place the voice.

"Jack?"

"Yep."

Silence.

"A job, you want one?"

"I don't need one, what do you want?" Methos replied peevishly. Prentiss was asleep next to him, he was grateful the late night call hadn't woken her. She had returned to the BAU but found the transition difficult.

"Yeahhh you remember that whole Carthis thing?"

"Methos?" Jarod asked from the doorway. While training and learning swordplay Jarod had moved in with Methos and Prentiss.

Methos covered the mouthpiece.

"Hang on, something's up."

Jarod looked concerned but remained where he was.

"What about Carthis?"

"We found a temple, it bit Max, she's fine but we need your help to figure it out."

"I have conditions."

"So does the general, no blowing shit up and no escaping."

"I need to bring two people with me." He would worry about Prentiss' agreement later.

"Who?"

"My student and my wife."

"Your_ wife_?"

Methos didn't reply.

"Okay give me their names, we'll do a security check."

"Emily Prentiss and Jarod."

"Jarod? What is he Cher? Wait, this is the guy from Carthis?"

"He doesn't have a last name. "

"Seriously? How old is he? I mean last names have been around for a long time -"

"He's like forty he was taken from his family so he literally doesn't have a last name."

Silence.

"Jack you want me? This is my price."

"I'll get back to you."

Methos hung up and slipped out of bed. He threw on a robe and took Jarod by the arm, lead them into the kitchen.

"You want me to go with you?" Jarod asked searching his mentor's face.

"Do you want to be on your own?" Methos asked back. Jarod was very, very good with a sword but Methos still wasn't certain that he'd be willing or able to kill another human being, even in self-defense. Jarod hesitated before answering.

"I guess not."

"What about Prentiss?"

"There's no guarantee Jack will be able to get clearance for all of us."

Jarod just looked at him.

"I'll tell her in the morning." He grumbled.

* * *

><p>"You want me to quit my job <em>again<em> and go to another planet? For how long?"

"I don't know I just…you don't have to go but I wanted –"

"Goddamnit Methos." Prentiss sighed and scrubbed her face.

"It's about Carthis Emily! It's not some bloody lark!"

"I am sick of Carthis, sick of –"

"Being married to me? Living this life?" He asked softly.

She looked hurt and then annoyed.

"Emily, it's okay, I've always…always known that –"

"What? I'd give up on us? Want something more? Something better?" she demanded then set her jaw and glared at him.

"Don't do that, don't act like this is some huge problem because you're immortal, this is you asking me to give up my career _again_ because you have an opportunity."

He frowned. "Look there's no point arguing about this right now. Jack might not be able to get clearance –"

"I'm a federal agent, I worked for Interpol, went undercover for the State Department Methos, of course they'll give me clearance." She snapped.

He looked resigned.

"Look I have to get to work, I'll call you." She said softly. He held her hand in his and kissed her once, hard.

"We'll figure it out." She said softly and smiled at him.

* * *

><p>"Jack?"<p>

"Yeah."

"So?"

"Clearance went through for your wife, you and your student on the other hand…the feds don't like you."

"Then pull some strings."

"You seriously got married?"

"Jack."

"Look it's going to take some time you don't have a particularly stellar record."

"I get that."

"Your friend Jarod, we need more than just a first name."

"He doesn't have a last name."

"Make one up."

"Charles, Jarod Charles."

"Great. I'll keep you posted."

Methos hung up and returned to reading the files Prentiss had brought home the night before. She was sleeping late in the other room.

"Charles?" Jarod asked opening the refrigerator and removing a carton of orange juice.

"Major Charles." Methos said looking up.

"Right." Jarod said nodding.

"What, is it wrong?"

"No, I don't think so I just never heard it out loud."

"Are you okay with this?" Methos asked putting the file aside.

"Potentially going to another planet and figuring out what the hell happened on Carthis?"

Methos smiled at him.

"Yeah I'm okay with it. What about Emily?"

"Well her clearance came through already ours on the other hand are going to be trickier."

"It's only been twenty-four hours –"

"That's an eternity for a situation like this. Trust me."

* * *

><p>"I'm fine doc!" Max nearly shouted. She'd been on lockdown in the infirmary since returning. Most of that time had been spent sleeping or being scanned, prodded, and poked. Now her patience was growing thinner as her strength increased.<p>

"Max –" Frasier started.

"Holloway, you know that medical orders supersede all others. Now shut up and do as you're told." Jack snapped as he entered the infirmary.

Max relented and sat on the cot again.

"Thank you Colonel." Frasier said and began to take Max's blood pressure again.

"Come on Jack, you know as well as I do that –"

"No, _we_ don't, neither of us is a medical doctor and neither of us has ever experienced what happened at that temple before." Jack growled.

"Fine." Max sighed.

"Look Max as a terrible patient I get where you're coming from but come on, Frasier isn't trying to screw up your day. She's just trying to make sure you're okay and you're gonna stay that way." Jack soothed.

Max looked up at him and then at Frasier.

"Yeah, yeah I know I'm sorry." Max admitted blushing slightly.

"Well, now that we've gotten that out of the way." Frasier said lightly then caught Jack's eye. She finished her exam and updated Max's file before walking with O'Neill outside the infirmary.

"Verdict?"

"She seems fine. Most of her tests are coming back normal and most of those that aren't are within norms for what we know about immortal physiology –"

"Most?"

"Yeah… I devised a new scan to investigate her quickening. We theorize that a quickening is basically an aggressive and powerful E.M. field with restorative and repairing properties. Based on that I've run some scans during her previous exams to establish a baseline. Now this is the result of the latest scan."

She said and handed her data pad to Jack.

The pad showed an outline of a human body ripples and waves of energy flowed over it in pulses. Fraiser hit a key and the image shrank to take up half the screen another similar image took the other half. That image showed a frantic surge of energy, a tide washing over the human figure, occasionally tendrils and spurts of energy separated and shot forth from the figure.

"Whoa, what the hell." Jack muttered.

"Now, it is possible that this is a normal cyclical event. We don't have much data to work with but considering the description of the events at the temple it worries me."

"Is she safe for duty?"

"I think so but I would prefer to run a few more tests."

"Right, well run 'em I'll talk to General Hammond."

"Uh Sir?" Frasier asked pausing O'Neill in his tracks.

"If we could get Adam in here, we could use his data to run a comparison."

"How useful would that be? He's male and incredibly old-"

"It would be better than nothing." Frasier sighed.

"Right. Okay I'll see what we can do."

* * *

><p>He met her outside Quantico for lunch. The team wasn't currently involved in any urgent cases so she had time.<p>

"Hey." He said warmly and they kissed briefly.

"I'm sorry." He said as they sat.

She didn't answer, concentrated on her napkin.

"I understand if you want to stay here while I go to the SGC –"

"How long would you be away?"

"I honestly don't know."

She looked at her menu and then up and out through a window to the teeming street beyond.

"I do this job for them Methos, I couldn't do it just for myself. I'm not wired that way it has to be for them, to keep them safe, to help us learn how we create these monsters and how we can stop them from hurting us. If I walk out on this job I walk out on them. I don't think I can do that. Not again."

He looked pained but kept quiet as she looked back at him.

"I love you and I love our life but I can't walk away again." She said softly.

"I can't leave this alone, I can't leave Max and the mystery of Carthis out there."

"I know."

"So where does that leave us?" she asked.

"The job for the SGC is temporary, a few months tops."

"Okay so you go and we…wait and see?"

"I guess so." He sighed.

"You call me everday, and emails, I expect loads of emails Mr. Pierson."

"On the hour Mrs. Pierson." He grinned.

"Although, you were right about clearance so maybe I'll never be cleared."

"You're so disreputable." She smirked.

"Blow up a few million dollars worth of gear and they take it to heart."

"You did what?" She asked laughing.

"Er..yeah… well I really didn't have much choice…"

* * *

><p>"Clearance has been approved for Adam Pierson and Jarod Charles." Hammond intoned in an almost annoyed voice.<p>

"Good. Great. Let's get 'em down here." Jack said.

"This Jarod person has a colorful history, in that he has none."

"No history?"

"Correct. I want both men under guard while they're here –"

"Ah come on General –"

"Adam is a known threat and we simply do not know enough about his companion to allow him to move freely through the SGC."

"Fine. What about Prentiss?"

"She's been cleared for full access."

"Right, when will they be here?"

"Your call."

* * *

><p>"Prentiss?" Methos said quietly. She was sitting on the balcony of their apartment drinking coffee. She looked up at him. Studied the mixture of tension, excitement, and worry in his features.<p>

"Clearance came through." She said sitting up.

"Yes. They want me to leave in an hour."

"Go, do good things and remember to call." She said standing and embracing him.

"Is this really the right decision?" He asked her, his voice tainted with fear.

"It's the only one we can make right now." She said firmly. He blinked and nodded sharply.

* * *

><p>"Welcome back to the SGC Pierson, these gentlemen –" Jack gestured at two solemn faced marines " will be with you everday all day. Same with you Mr. Charles." Jack said.<p>

Methos and Jarod looked awkwardly at the marines.

"Right. Where's Max?" Methos asked.

"This way."

Teal'c and Max were sparring. Teal'c enjoyed the sessions he didn't need to hold back and Max was a good student.

She slipped under his guard and lashed out with a punishing thrust of her palm, he dodged the blow and swept her to the ground.

"You are more skilled than that. Concentrate." He rumbled as she got to her feet.

They squared off again and she went for him no holds barred. He knocked her on her ass but she used the opportunity to snake behind him and get a grip around his throat, a severely awkward maneuver as he was several inches taller than her. With little or no leverage keeping her on the ground he simply jerked forward pulling her off her feet. She let her body move with the gesture sliding around to face him and landing a vicious blow to his face.

He shook her off and backed off a few feet.

"Holloway!" Jack shouted.

Max glanced past Teal'c at the doorway.

Teal'c moved in and knocked her on her ass, her head bounced off the mat and she saw stars but rolled away from Teal'c and got to her feet. He moved at her with a speed that was startling in a man his size. She back tracked darted around him and off the mat. He smiled, straightened and inclined his head to her.

"Mat rules." She explained turning to face Jack.

"Right okay look Adam is here with his student."

"Student?" She asked accepting a towel Teal'c tossed to her.

"Yep."

"Huh, okay I'll get cleaned up."

"They're in the briefing room. They've been cleared but they're under guard."

"Oh?"

"Well yeah, I had to do a song and dance to convince General Hammond to let your idiot buddy back into the SGC and his student ... just... hustle." Jack grunted.


	18. Back to the Scene of the Crime

Max was nervous, she admitted that much to herself, the Methos she had last seen was a wreck This man obviously wasn't if Jack had worked so hard to get him to the SGC. Jarod was also a mystery, she knew about him of course as did Macleod and Joe but she didn't _know _him.

Meeting another immortal for the first time was always a tricky and dangerous situation the wrong word or action could result in a fatal confrontation. She doubted that Jarod, from what she knew of him, would be quick to draw and considering Cheyenne Mountain was sacred ground as well as the SGC even if the introduction went badly a fatal ending was unlikely but still her stomach knotted and filled with dread as she showered and dressed in a clean uniform.

She checked herself in the mirror. She looked calm, clean, well groomed. Her uniform was sharp, insignia bright. She ran a hand through her short hair half pondering getting a haircut before going off world again. A noise in the locker room drew her attention.

She leaned away from the mirror and spotted Sam.

"Hey." She called.

"Oh, I thought you'd gone up already." Sam said distractedly and smiled at Max. Max stepped away from the mirror and walked to Sam, she leaned against a bank of lockers and faced Sam.

"Pretty weird right?"

"You mean bringing in more immortals or bringing in a man that caused nearly two million dollars worth of damage and incapacitated several of our personnel as well as stealing government property?"

"All of the above." Max sighed.

Sam finished putting away her workout gear in her locker and pulled out a fresh uniform.

"Yeah." She agreed with a smile.

"I'll wait for you in the hall we can go up together, strength in numbers." Max sighed and straightened.

"It'll be fine Max."

"Sure, what could possibly go wrong?" Max agreed lightly.

* * *

><p>Methos and Jarod sat under the watchful gaze of the duo of Marines. After twenty minutes or so Daniel and Teal'c arrived and made their introductions.<p>

"Jaffa?" Jarod asked.

Teal'c looked at Daniel who shrugged. The big man rose from his seat across from the immortals and pulled his T-shirt from the waistband of his uniform pants. He lifted the bottom of it and pinned it to his chest with his chin. Jarod studied the X of flesh on Teal'cs lower torso as the Jaffa slipped his hand into it and withdrew a squealing creature that seemed to be a cross between a snake and some kind of fish. Jarod went pale.

"I am Jaffa, the Goa'uld tampered with us to turn us into living hosts for their larval young. They act as our immune systems." Teal'c said then replaced the snake and fixed his clothing.

"That is monstrous." Jarod said softly. He had known horrors, witnessed them and unwittingly caused them but this was beyond his worst imaginings.

"You cannot live without the larval Goa'uld?" Jarod asked.

"There is a drug called Tretonnin but it's still experimental we're hoping to role it out in the next few months once it's tested as safe." Daniel explained.

"Then you and your people won't be dependent, that's wonderful." Jarod said to Teal'c.

"Indeed." Teal'c agreed with his small smile and a nod.

A light knock sounded on the door and it opened a crack Sam poked her head in then opened the door wide. She and Max entered.

"Max, this is Jarod, Jarod this is Major Samantha Carter and Staff Sergeant Max Holloway." Daniel said standing.

Methos rose and rounded the table Max put out her hand to shake but he pulled her into a hug. She sighed and laughed.

"Nervous?" He asked releasing her.

"Wonder why." She snorted and grinned.

"I've heard a lot about you." Jarod said getting to his feet.

"All true I hope." Max said and offered her hand across the table Jarod took it and they shook firmly.

"Guess we'll find out." Jarod said with a hint of swagger. Methos returned to his seat while Sam and Max sat.

"I hate paperwork, can't I just do my job without it?" Jack whined as he entered he shot a hard look at Methos and Jarod.

"For the record, if either of you screws up I'm just going to shoot you and leave you off world, the paperwork is easier." He growled.

Methos smiled softly.

"Why are we here Colonel?"

"Daniel?" Jack prompted.

"Well I need your help translating some cuneiform the vocabulary is beyond what it was used for on Earth."

"And?" Methos prompted.

"And Max got bit by a temple that seems an awful lot like that one in Carthis. Or so they tell me." Jack said leaning back in his chair and folding his arms behind his head.

"Bit?" Jarod asked, tasting the word in its odd juxtaposition.

"Yeah, I uh, well, we're pretty sure it drained my quickening did something with it then fed it back in to me."

"What?" Methos asked alarmed.

"Doc Frasier says I'm pretty much fine, I still heal and I felt you guys when you were first brought in but she came up with a new test to sorta read our quickenings or at least our personal E.M. fields, she's worried mine might be on the blink."

"So you want to test us?"

"If you're willing. At least let her get a baseline in case something happens at the temple, for your own good."

Methos was scowling.

"Our own good?" He asked icily. Max regretted the choice of words.

Sam licked her lips and opened her mouth to speak but Methos rose and cut her off.

"You do recall just why I left the way I did? Wiping as many records of our existence as possible?" Methos snarled at Max.

"Goddamnit Methos, I live here, work here, _die_ here to keep you and the rest of the planet spinning. They need information to make sure I'm fit for duty that means running tests and collating information you ass. You don't have to undergo any tests if you aren't willing to asshole." She snarled.

Methos leaned back a bit and looked over at Sam and Jack. They met his gaze steadily.

"I have your word, your absolute word that anything you collect about me is limited to Doctor Frasier and the people in this room and when this crisis is resolved it is destroyed." He demanded.

"Sure, whatever you say." Jack replied sourly.

"Of course." Sam agreed.

Methos didn't exactly relax but the level of hostility in the room dropped.

"Right, well Teal'c and Sam are going to run you two through some basic combat and marksmanship testing before dinner tomorrow morning we go off world."

"You're efficient." Jarod said.

"Blame Max for that, little miss multiple-felonies." Jack grumbled and excused himself.

"Multiple felonies?" Methos asked as Daniel, Teal'c and Sam followed Jack.

"Er uh yeah little misunderstanding in the desert, nothing big really." Max muttered as she got to her feet.

"The desert…wait, a few weeks ago, there was that mysterious mass murder –"

"Mass _murder_?" Methos demanded.

"Look it wasn't really murder! It was self defense! I've been railroaded!" Max protested.

"That's why we have to leave tomorrow? They're sending you off world to avoid extradition?" Jarod said somewhat admiringly.

"I only came back because the temple fucked me up, I'm supposed to be off world permanently." Max sighed.

"What happened?" Methos asked.

Max flexed her jaw and glared at him.

"Don't act like you give a fuck Methos, you're just worried about how it might affect immortals, well don't. If it comes to it I'll publically fake my death and stay off world for the next hundred years."

"I remember that story in the news Max, how the fuck do you 'self-defense' nearly 80 people to death?" He demanded.

"You're the fucking expert Methos why don't you tell me?" She shot back getting to her feet. Jarod rose and put a hand on Methos' shoulder.

"I know what happened Max, I know how it can be, the thrill, the anger, the outrage, and the satisfaction of making them pay, _I know_." Methos hissed.

Max blanched.

"Do not stand there and tell me you had no choice, there is always a choice Max, even it's just between terrible outcomes. You made a choice that resulted in dozens of dead mortals."

"It also kept the NID from dissecting me and figuring us out, it kept a state of the art cutting edge suite of survival gear from falling into their hands!"

"Eighty people Max." Methos said quietly and shrugged off Jarod's hand.

* * *

><p>The two men left. Max stood in the briefing room head lowered, heart heavy and let them go.<p>

"Will she be okay?" Jarod asked Methos.

"I don't know, I don't really care just now either."

"She lost control." Jarod sighed.

Methos nodded.

"I was afraid of it, I knew it would likely happen but…gods at least they were NID."

"You trust her?"

"With my life but that doesn't mean I trust her to make the best decisions and in the heat of battle…" He looked thoughtful.

"We only know what was released to the press." Jarod pointed out.

* * *

><p>"Jack I need to know!" Methos snapped.<p>

Jack was in his little-used office glaring at Methos over his desk.

"No you don't you aren't cleared!"

"Eighty people Jack!"

"I saw the bodies!" Jack shot back.

Methos swallowed and sat down.

"They had her treed on a rock formation in the desert Methos. They hunted her for three days before she hit back. She offered quarter to anyone that would take it and only one of them did."

"There's a witness?"

"She's too traumatized to testify but she backs up Max's story."

Methos licked his lips and too a slow deep breath.

"I just need to see the reports Jack."

"Why? To what end? To judge her?" Jack demanded.

"Someone needs to Jack, and I don't mean guilt or innocence I mean competence. You know soldiers and combat, you've done black ops missions right?" Jack didn't reply but he didn't need to.

"So you know that someone has to make the call and you know mortals better than I probably ever can but I know _her_ and I know immortals."

"You want to make the call whether she's fit for duty?"

"I want to know if she's going to commit another massacre." Methos said quietly.

"She was justified –"

"Was she?" Methos challenged.

Jack glowered reached into his desk and fished out a thick file. He tossed it at Methos.

"Leave it here when you're done, don't leave the office with it." He snapped then folded his arms and waited for Methos to open it.

* * *

><p>"You like it here?" Jarod asked. He felt odd being surrounded by so many military uniforms and dressed in civilian clothing. He'd feel better if he were on a pretend. More secure at least.<p>

"Yeah I do, it works for me, I don't think most immortals would tolerate it, too many rules –"

"Rumor has it you aren't very good at following them either." Jarod said gently.

"Well, yeah, but I know why they're in place and if it's important, I mean really important not just protocol then I'll shut up and color with the rest."

"You don't think other immortals would?"

"I don't know, I think…well I think that we're all used to being masters of our own fates, y'know? So used to relying on ourselves and being paranoid for good reason that being asked to blindly trust…nah I don't see it."

They walked in silence for a bit. They'd eaten a quick dinner at the chowhall under the curious gazes of the SGC personnel. Max had assured Jarod that by and large they were used to stranger houseguests than him but word had spread – as it did at any installation particularly one so close knit and secretive- that another immortal was going to be arriving.

"They're curious but they won't hurt you or anything."

"I'm used to being a freak." Jarod replied.

"Methos said you haven't been immortal very long, just since Carthis?"

"Right."

"Oh you mean the Centre, and being a Pretender." Max said nodding and digging into her meal.

"He told you?"

"Eventually. See it's sort of a deal that if one of us takes on a student the rest of us will keep an eye out y'know in case the teacher gets taken out or trouble is incoming."

"Us?"

"Yeah y'know, Joe, Mac, Methos, even Richie, though I haven't seen him in years and I don't think he's ever had a student."

Jarod mulled that over.

"You're a family?"

"Yeah, as much as a bunch of immortals can be I guess. I mean, I don't doubt that at some point in the future a couple of us will probably face off with swords but that's how it is for us."

"Are there other groups like that?"

"I dunno, I wanna say yeah but hell that would mean more than a couple of immortals actually becoming friends and having some level of trust, I'm not sure how common that is."

"What about SG-1?" Jarod asked.

"They're family." She said immediately and confidently.

"What about you? Methos said you found your family?"

"I did and…it was good but I had to leave them. I'm a risk now besides they have Jacob to think about and my sister."

"Dude, tell me about Prentiss are they really getting married?"

Jarod laughed.

"I don't know I think they would like to."

"What are they afraid of?"

"Paperwork, background checks, questions. Her mother is an ambassador."

"Yeah but it's gotta be more than that, between Methos and Garcia I don't think there'd be too many paperwork screw-ups."

"You'd have to ask them I guess." Jarod said cryptically.

"Oh fine, I guess being a Pretender and all you don't have any insight into human behavior? Or maybe living with a profiler hasn't taught you anything? Or oh I know being trained by the oldest man in the world, as cunning a son of a bitch as ever drew breath has left you stymied?" Max snorted.

"It's not my place to speculate."

"Horseshit Jarod stop being polite."

"They need a kick in the ass, maybe this trip will be it." He said with a smile at max's prodding.

"Yeah maybe." She muttered as her radio crackled at her hip. She frowned and slipped it free of its holster.

"Shouldn't be any interference down here." She said holding the radio.

"G-1….gate…." The radio blurted.

"Come on somethings wrong!" Max said and sprinted back toward the emergency stairs, Jarod hot on her heels.

She raced down two flights and burst into the main hall leading to the gateroom she took Jarod's hand and dragged him to an armory.

"Here you did well enough on the range." She said and tossed him a rifle and a clip. Then armed herself. She paused at a rack of hand to hand weaponry and tossed Jarod a short sword then took one for herself.

"Not ideal but better than nothing eh?" She said and shoved the door to the hallway open.

They joined a dozen marines and security forces personnel in the gate room.

"Situation?" Max shouted over the klaxons.

"Unscheduled off world activation." A marine captain shouted back.

Max leveled her weapon and readied herself. Jarod hung back but made sure his weapon was loaded and the safety was off.

The iris closed over the wormhole and the gate room fell silent only the flashing light of the muted klaxon remained. After a few minutes even that faded as the wormhole collapsed and the iris opened.

The personnel in the gate room remained in place until General Hammond's voice rang out with the all clear.

"Does that happen a lot?" Jarod asked as he handed Max his weapons to return to the armory.

"No." She said distractedly.

Jarod remained quiet and followed Max. His mind was whirring along but he didn't know enough to come to any conclusions. He felt like a fifth wheel.

"Keep close Jarod." Max said as they moved higher in the SGC.

* * *

><p>Methos set the file down with a heavy sigh.<p>

"Verdict?"

"The body count is unacceptably high." Methos said stiffly.

Jack looked gray.

"The motivation?"

"It was self defense but she didn't need to kill all those people she could have disengaged."

"They killed our research team."

"That's in the report." Methos said gently.

"Shit."

"You were banking on her immortality being a factor."

"Kinda yeah." Jack groaned.

A neutral silence fell between the men.

"Salvagable?" Jack asked after some time had passed.

"I don't know."

"We're off world tomorrow. In addition to helping Daniel I'd appreciate it if you could keep an eye on her."

"What about the scans?"

"I canceled them."

"Why?"

"Because she seems fine and I don't need you blowing up the mountain."

"Thank you."

"Get some rest Methos I need you sharp tomorrow."

"Colonel?" Methos said, voice sad as he rose to go. Jack looked up at him dark eyes hooded.

"I'm so sorry."

"You and me both." Jack sighed.

* * *

><p>The Temple planet was just the same as when they'd left. Vast fields of wild grasses and sporadic stands of beech-like deciduous trees leading down to the thin rocky soiled depression where the temple lurked.<p>

Max began sweating once the temple was in sight, she felt nauseas and had to look away.

"Problem Holloway?" Jack asked. She held up a hand and braced herself against the ground. Jarod knelt next to her, checked her pulse.

"She's ill." He said sharply.

"I'll be fine just the heat." She lied.

"Sit down knucklehead." Jack said not unkindly and gestured for the group to move in tighter.

"Methos, Jarod, you feel anything?"

"Not even a tingle." Methos said glancing at the temple. He adjusted his grip on the assault rifle he'd been issued and frowned at the temple.

"Right, let's set up camp here for now. Jarod, Methos take care of Max."

Jack kept staring at the temple.

"Jack I'd like to get some new photos of the temple, maybe tonight Methos and I can make some progress." Daniel suggested.

"Okay, Sam stay here with the campers and the Marines, Teal'c and Danny with me."

Max watched them go, her vision wobbling and uncertain.

"Methos?" She asked.

"Yeah kid." He replied slipping an arm under her armpit and hauling her to her feet.

"Keep an eye on them." She asked paper pale and clammy. Jarod maneuver to scoop her into his arms. He was surprised by her weight, uncertain if she was really that heavy or her gear weighed more than he'd expected.

"I've got her."

Methos nodded and trotted to catch up with the SG-1 men.

"Whoa, hey thought I told you to hang back." Jack grumbled when Methos arrived at his elbow.

"You said Max was fine until she entered the temple, right?"

They nodded.

"Good then I won't go in and I'll let you know if anything gets tingly."

"It would save some time if he could look at the inscriptions in person." Daniel admitted.

"Fine, take the rear, Teal'c keep an eye on him, he gets pale, falls over, grows horns whatever lemme know."

Teal'c nodded.

"Freakin' immortals." Jack sighed and began to move toward the temple again. Methos smirked and Daniel tried to hide a smile while Teal'c maintained his usual dour expression as the three fell in behind Jack.

Methos was fine as they grew closer he event touched the exterior and felt nothing.

"So far so good." Jack said and did a quick circuit of the building while Daniel and Methos started to examine the inscriptions with Teal'c standing watch.

The building was a massive cube as far as Jack could tell, located in the center of the rocky depression, it's thin dry soil puffed over his boots as he walked. He scanned the rim of the horizon but didn't see any signs of life. The only tracks around the temple were those they'd left days before. No animals, not even bird prints or leavings no sign of any visitors at all.

He frowned straightened from his examination of the soil and returned to the others. Teal'c looked bored but alert as Jack approached Daniel and Methos were focused on the inscriptions.

"Looks like this place has zero visitors."

"No animals either Colonel O'Neill?" Teal'c rumbled.

"Nope. I tell you what T I don't like it." Jack grunted.

"Indeed." Teal'c said shifting his stance and scowling at the horizon.

Hours passed until the light began to fail.

"Alright pack it up eggheads we've got a twenty minute walk back to the camp." Jack called through the twilight. Methos and Daniel didn't argue they packed up their few tools and fell in with the other men.

"Sam we're heading back." Jack squawked over the radio.

"Sir, Max isn't improving, we may need to send her back to the SGC."

"Understood." Jack sighed and caught Methos' eye.

"It may be for the best." Methos said softly.

Jack looked away frowning.

"Sorry am I missing something?" Daniel asked glancing from one man to the other.

"I'll explain later." Jack muttered and moved out again.

The camp was small but secure Max lay in a shelter Jarod at her side the four marines were on sentry duty while Sam examined Max.

"Status major?" Jack asked.

"No change sir, she insists she's fine."

"Yeah well, she would, Jarod you have some pretty extensive medical training, verdict?"

"Honestly sir the closest thing I can think of is some kind of radiation poisoning." Jarod sighed.

"Radiation? Major?"

"I haven't detected anything but it's possible that her quickening is reacting to the proximity of the temple."

"I'm fine." Max hissed.

"You are also widely considered and judged to be an idiot." Methos snorted.

"Old…ass." Max muttered.

"Yeah that was weak you're definitely sick." Jack grunted.

Max managed to flip him the bird.

"Alright, let's head back the gate, maybe some distance will put some spring back in sunshine's step." Jack said and recalled the marines.

Max managed to walk with Jarod supporting her as soon as the temple was out of sight – regardless of the darkness – she paused.

"Are you okay?" Jarod asked.

"Yeah, I mean, seriously yes, I'm fine…now." She said straightening and standing on her own. He held her arms for a moment looking into her eyes.

"She's fine." He agreed.

"Sir, I've been following the readings for ambient energy in the area and there's no radiation to speak of but a few seconds ago there was a marked drop in local E.M. disturbance.

"We're beyond the temples E.M. range." Methos muttered.

"So what does that mean? I mean, practically speaking?" Jarod asked.

"I'm no good here, not any closer than here at least." Max sighed and wiped at her sweaty face with a sleeve of her uniform.

"Okay camp here then Sergeant Naylin get the SGC on the horn and give them a status update, have the rest of your men stand down, we'll take the first two watches." Jack said. The marines had been alert and on point all day they'd earned a break.

Methos and Jarod set about making camp with Teal'c while Daniel reviewed the progress he and Methos had made and Sam made more readings.

"Jack." Daniel said quietly. He was sitting near a small fire reading over his notes with a hand held LED light. Jack crouched next to him.

"Yeah Danny?" Jack replied mildly.

"What were you and Methos talking about?" He pitched his voice low. Jack sighed, set his weapon next to him and sat down. He looked around to see who was in ear shot then spoke.

"Methos reviewed the reports on the desert incident."

"Oh." Daniel said troubled.

"Yeah."

"What did he conclude?"

"Technically she's in the clear but it was overkill."

"Oh no, damn Jack."

Jack was quiet then he sat up and dug in his hip pocket and fished out a flask. He took a long pull and handed it to Daniel.

Daniel took a drink and handed it back.

"What are you going to do?" Daniel asked the taste of the whiskey fading.

"Wait and see for now."

"Does she know?"

"Nah, I don't think so. I didn't tell her and I seriously doubt Methos did."

"Why not?"

"Well this isn't really the time or place for starters." Jack grunted.

"Jack." Daniel chided.

"Because I don't want to Daniel and I don't see what good it would do right now to confirm to her that she's a mass murderer." Jack hissed.

"Okay but what about later? She'll realize you, we, kept it from her. You know how she hates being lied to."

"We'll deal with it then." Jack said firmly.

Max, crouched in the shadows beyond the camp, swallowed hard and tried to forget what she'd overheard. She rose from the spot she'd chosen to bury the leftovers of her MRE and moved further away. The lump in her throat, she was certain, was from the smoky fire.


	19. Fire in the Sky

Jarod watched the military personnel and his mentor sleep. Three Marines were on guard Jarod was fairly certain that at least one was dedicated to watching him alone. Max was crouched near the fire fiddling with the coals. Feeling a chill in the night air Jarod rose from his spot and approached the fire.

"Mind if I join you?" He asked taking a seat near Max.

"Free country er planet." Max said with a vague smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine." She said and fished something out of the coals. It was a rock, he watched her dump it into a steel pot and add water from her canteen then a handful of dried leaves.

"Tea?"

"Want some? No sugar I'm afraid and you'll have to avoid the leaves or chew 'em."

"Sounds good." He said with a grin.

She snorted and spooned a helping into a steel cup.

"It's gonna be hot as hell, might wanna use your sleeve to pad it."

He took her advice and felt the fierce heat of the water through the metal container and his bundled sleeve. The water smelled strongly of green tea and mint.

"Blend?"

"The mint is refreshing in the morning."

Jarod nodded.

"So what do you think of this life so far?"

"It's a challenge." He laughed.

She grinned at him.

"Ah you haven't gotten to the good stuff yet."

"Yeah what's that?"

"Stick around and you'll see."

They were quiet for some time then enjoying the tea.

"Do you like training with Methos?"

"He's thorough." Jarod said and looked at his tea then smiled. "Honestly I can probably be on my own I just…"

"Don't beat yourself up Jarod this life is…well it's not exactly easy."

Jarod guffawed at that.

"Yeah laugh it up." She chuckled.

"No, I'm sorry, you're right. It is a hard adjustment I just…for me it isn't the training or even being hunted, I've spent the last few years of my life learning to run and hide, how to evade and go to ground –"

"The killing." Max sighed.

Jarod nodded face shadowed. Max studied him for a few seconds then poured more tea.

"You've done it before."

"I didn't have a choice." He said sharply shame and guilt coloring his cheeks then looked away from her back to the fire.

"Yeah and you won't now. A hunter isn't going to try to kill you because of anything you've done, they'll try to kill you because of what you _are_. You won't be able to talk them out of it or bargain they'll want to kill you just because you exist and your death can make them stronger."

He was quiet still staring at the fire.

"Remember that and remember what Methos teaches you, you don't owe them a fair fight, if they challenge you take every advantage you can and then some. You do whatever you can get away with to ensure you have an edge and then you _don't_ back down. Once that challenge is issued the hunter is dead to you. Period." She said softly.

He looked up from the fire at her, the flames reflecting in his eyes, shadows cast over his features.

"Is that what you tell yourself?" He asked hollowly, voice hard edged.

She laughed bitterly. "No Jarod, my problem with the killing is a little different from yours."

He waited for her to continue as the fire crackled and hissed.

"I like it too much." She said quietly and dumped the last of the tea into the fire.

"That must be difficult to deal with." Jarod said gently. She looked at him speculatively, as though she'd expected a condemnation rather than understanding. She shrugged one shoulder and cleared her throat.

"Yeah well, that's part of why I work with the SGC. I go on missions to do some good, use my skills to help humanity, y'know? If I didn't have that… I dunno I mean before the SGC I did a lot of training, a lot, I mean marathon running and that kind of thing which sorta helped. And… I took challenges, from anyone and everyone."

"You won." He said.

"Sure but that was my whole world; training to kill, killing, and training some more."

Jarod was quiet.

"So I sorta ran into the SGC face first and found something better to work for, toward, _to_." She said and smiled.

"Sounds like you keep getting in trouble though." He said with a small smile.

"It's an adjustment process. I dunno, I think Jack sees me as a raw recruit thinks he can whip me into shape and make a careerist out of me."

"You don't agree?"

"I've avoided court martial a half dozen times because I'm more useful in the field than in chains. I finally earned a bout of CC and got a whole bunch of people killed."

"It wasn't your fault that the NID killed the research team or went after you."

"No, but it _was_ my fault that the body count was so high. I could have smashed their forces, taken their intel and run for it but I didn't. I dug in and I killed as many of them as I could." She said her voice distant.

"You regret it."

"Of course but … well it doesn't do much good now does it? It doesn't matter that most of them would have happily killed me then turned me over to their masters and dissected me, I knew I could extricate myself and I made the conscious decision to stay and kill."

"Will you do it again?" Jarod asked as the fire popped and settled. Max put more branches on the coals before answering.

"No. Lesson learned." She sighed.

"Well, then there's that I suppose." Jarod said gently and put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened and looked at his hand then at him and managed to smile.

"Yeah live and learn." She said sourly.

Jarod dropped his hand and resumed staring at the fire. Eventually he dozed off and woke to find someone had placed a blanket over him and dawn had arrived.

Max was standing over the fire adjusting a pot of hot water hanging over the flames.

"Hey." She said and smiled at him.

"Good morning." He replied cheerfully and sat up.

"Daniel and the others are at the temple. It's just us and Private Company."

Jarod glanced at the lone Marine eating a protein bar and staring out over the forest.

"That's an unusual name." He mused.

"Yeah no sense of humor about it either, trust me." She said and winked at Jarod.

"If you can work yourself to an upright type position we can take a walk."

"Scout things out?"

"Yep."

He grinned.

Max checked her gear while Jarod ate. She strapped a dull black steel blade -a light weight version of her usual blade- to her hip with a breakaway scabbard. Checked her sidearm and extra clip in its thigh holster on the opposite hip and made sure she had her first aid kit, radio, canteen spare clip for her assault rifle, and her jacket. She slipped on her tactical vest and clipped the rifle to the chest then stretched and slipped her jacket on. Jarod watched her while he ate.

"Expecting trouble?"

"Expecting no, prepared for? Fuck yeah."

He laughed then stood still while Max walked him through the gear he'd been issued and set him up.

"Now you're a good enough shot that they let you off world but just remember, take your time, breath and squeeze. If things get tight I'll have your back." She said and rested her hands on his shoulders for a moment looking up into his concerned face.

"You'll be fine Jarod, you've been through life and death and been fired at before, only difference is this time you can shoot back."

"I don't know if I can." He said staring at the automatic hand gun she'd given him.

"Hopefully you won't have to; it's always easier to try talking before shooting. Easier to undo things that way too." Max said.

"I'll stay here, keep an eye out." The marine said. Max nodded at him and held up her radio.

"We're just a squawk away." He nodded and watched them carefully as they filed out of the camp.

The planet was temperate they kept to the belt of woods along the hills and angled west of the gate with the temple behind and below them. They made good time taking in the scenery and any signs of life. After two hours they paused for a break.

"There's something weird about this place." Max said around a mouthful of protein bar.

"No birds." Jarod said nodding and wiping his sweaty face with a cloth dampened by his canteen.

She nodded and swallowed.

"No animal tracks either." She agreed.

"Should we head back?"

"Yeah, I think so, Jack should know about this. It's one thing for no signs of life around the temple but why would there be a planet with an ecosystem that should need animal life to function but devoid of animals? I haven't even seen a bug."

"Agreed." Jarod said frowning at the trees around them.

They made better time on the way back and arrived just as Jack was returning to the camp. He had left the rest of SG-1 at the temple.

"Find anything?" He asked.

"Uh no, actually, no signs of anything but plants, no birds, no animals, hell not even a damn beetle." Max sighed.

Jack nodded.

"So it's not just the temple."

"Or the area affected by the temple is larger than we thought." Jarod suggested.

That evening as Daniel and Methos were going over their conclusions Jack announced they would have one more day at the site and then they were packing up.

"Jack we need more time –"

"Daniel I understand but there's something seriously wrong here that we aren't seeing. One day then we go back get some drones and a bigger team and come back. We aren't abandoning the site yet." Jack grunted. Daniel looked mildly mollified but frustrated.

"Could be worse Danny, could be raining." Max teased.

"So you and Max went for a hike?" Methos asked as he and Jarod prepared a group meal.

"Yes it was interesting, unusual to see no animal life though."

"Yeah that's…disturbing."

"Max is nice." Jarod volunteered breaking Methos' reverie.

Methos smiled and laughed. "Really? Not sure that's how I'd describe her." He said and stirred the pot of stew he'd hung over the fire.

"She's complicated but kind." Jarod clarified.

Methos raised an eyebrow, "You're good at reading people."

"Have to be." Jarod grinned then frowned.

"What?" Methos probed as Jarod looked thoughtfully at the fire and the stew.

"She knows she was wrong, in the desert. It's eating at her."

Methos sighed and pulled the pot off the fire.

"Well it should, a lot of those people didn't have to die."

"Yeah I know but she's trying."

Methos nodded slowly.

"Good, it's something at least." Methos sighed.

"What did you learn at the temple today?"

"Not much it looks like this is a more intact or original version of the building on Carthis. The translations are slow work and most of it is guess work at best."

"You could always take Max back there." Jarod suggested.

Methos looked at him sharply. "We have no idea what would happen, it could kill her, drain her quickening and make her mortal, anything could happen."

"Or nothing at all."

Methos shook his head.

"No, it's too risky besides Jack won't go for it."

"Maybe he doesn't have a say." Max said stepping into the firelight.

Methos scowled at her.

"Right, because throwing yourself at the temple is a splendid idea." He scoffed.

"What real choices are there?"

"Plenty." Methos snorted.

"Says you."

"Yes actually I do, and so would Daniel, Jack or anyone with any sense." He snapped and turned away from the stew. "Look, Max, I get that you feel terriblel about murdering a shit ton of people, and you _should_ but throwing your eternal life away in some pointless bid for what? Glory? Answers? Won't make it better, in fact it'll make it worse because you killed them to live and what will you have done with that? Died in a completely pointless act? How about you do the harder thing? Live, go on, do good things, assist the SGC and SG-1 in protecting Earth?"

"Is that what keeps you going? Why you won't lie down and die? Because it would be a _waste_?" She demanded.

"This isn't about me or the whys of my decisions, it's about you." He snapped rounding on her.

She glared at him and tensed.

"I do what I do for my own reasons and I can assure you that none of them include the sort of idiocy you've relied upon of late." He snarled. She rose to her feet hands balled into fists nails biting at her palms.

"Idiocy? Like going back to Seacouver to put you back together?"

"But did you? What, aside from going AWOL, exactly did you achieve with that little trip?"

"I kept Prentiss safe from you." Max said sullenly jaw thrust out.

"Maybe, although seeing as she's ex-INTERPOL and a profiler just maybe she could've dealt with it on her own, y'think?"

"Fuck you." Max hissed.

"No Max. Fuck. You. Pull your head out of your ass and start thinking with it. Yeah you have problems whoopty de fucking doo, what mortal or immortal, human or alien doesn't?"

"You're a fine one to lecture –"

"Yeah, actually I am. We're more alike than we are different you and I. You're trying to walk the same road I paved. Listen to me, I'll save you a few hundred years of angst and pointless murder, or you can keep acting on impulse and ricochet from one crisis to another until it gets you killed. But you don't get to take any more lives with you. The desert was the last of it."

"Is that a challenge?" She asked very very softly. Looking at him with the fire between them.

Methos put a hand to his forehead ground his teeth then lowered his hand. "No, it's not a challenge it's an ultimatum. Kill another person, mortal, immortal, human or no that you don't have to and I _will_ challenge you." He said in the tense silence that had descended among the group.

"You would do that? You would kill me?"

"Every time I take a student I know that one day I'll stand over their bodies and sometimes I'll have had to kill them myself Max. Why do you think I rarely take them on? Do you think it is fun for me to watch you fuck up and ruin what we've been given? That I _enjoy_ teaching you everything you need to know to live a long life only to watch you waste it and throw your life away? That it gives me some satisfaction to watch you piss away everything I'm trying to give you? See you walk face first into the same crap I did?" He asked bitterly.

She straightened, set her shoulders back and nodded once.

"Notice received." She said stiffly then turned on her heel and walked into the woods.

Jack nodded at a marine who peeled off and began to trail Max at a safe distance.

Methos was shaking slightly as he slowly sat again near the fire. Jack joined him while Daniel retrieved the stew and the rest of the camp resumed their various tasks and chores for the evening.

"She had that coming." Jack said and accepted a bowl of stew from Daniel.

"Doesn't mean she'll take it well." Methos sighed and waved his bowl away. Daniel served Sam, Jarod and the Marines before taking his own bowl and sitting near Methos and Jack, Jarod sat behind them toward the shadows of the woods.

"She'll be back in a few hours." Daniel said and blew on a spoonful of stew.

"Probably." Jarod agreed thoughtfully, he was staring at Max's sleeping roll and wondering how likely it might be that she would just keep walking and not turn back. She had enough innate knowledge to survive on the planet though the lack of animal life could prove challenging when it came to food. Still, he imagined she could make a go of it.

"Colonel, is there a guard on the temple?" Jarod asked suddenly.

"No, not much need." Jack said around a hot mouthful of stew.

"Before tonight there wasn't much need." Jarod pointed out.

"Y'think?" Jack asked. Daniel was already groaning and Sam was on her feet.

"Ah crap." Jack sighed setting his stew aside.

"Captain get your man on the radio find out where he and Max are and tell him to let us know the moment she appears to be doubling back." Jack called to the Marine officer. Then SG-1 with Methos and Jarod in tow lit out for the temple.

"She's not that pissed off is she?" Daniel asked Jack as they ran.

"Nah she'd never do anything impulsive or stupid." Jack snorted, half shouting over the noise of the group's movement through the tall grass of the plains. The lack of light was slowing them down as well. He keyed his radio and said, "Captain if we are not back in camp in half an hour get your men back to the gate and dial the SGC update the general and follow his instructions"

"Understood sir, good luck."

Ahead of them, at the temple, an arc of blue white lightning shot into the sky and to their shock stayed frozen in place.

"What the hell is that?" Jack asked glancing at Carter.

Carter didn't answer just glanced at Methos and Jarod.

"Sir, I don't know that bringing them to the temple is a good idea, there's every possibility they could be sickened by it the same way Max was."

"Uuuh Jack?" Daniel called staring up at the frozen bolt of lightning as it began to pulse with a dull red light.

"That can't be a good sign." Jack said frowning.

"Okay Jarod and Methos stay back keep your radios on, everyone else with me." Jack ordered.

"Jack Jarod might be able to help –"

"You're immortals Methos, stay here, besides from what you said Jarod was made an immortal by Carthis if he follows maybe he'll lose it."

"Don't tempt me sir." Jarod said grimly, immortality was not something he was happy about. He had left one family to find his own future thinking, on some level, that one day he could have a family of his own, immortality had robbed him of that.

"I see your point." Jack grunted while adjusting his weapon and his tactical vest.

"We'll stay here for now Jack but if I'll go in there if I think I need to." Methos said catching his breath.

"Guess that's the best I'll get huh?" Jack sighed.

"I never signed a dotted line or swore an oath." Methos said with a sly smile.

"Yeah and y'never will I bet, okay gang let's go." He said and lead SG-1 at a trot across the half mile or so of plains between the immortals and the temple.

"What kind of head start do you want to give them?" Jarod asked as he shed excess equipment including his sidearm and rifle until he was wearing only the tactical vest, first aid kit, and sword.

"Ten minutes." Methos said and began shedding gear as well.

Jack and the others instinctively slowed as they reached the temple. The pulsing red light cast an eerie glow over the plains and their faces.

"Carter?"

"It could be some kind of sustained energy transfer, but that's literally a shot in the dark."

"Okay, Daniel, thoughts?"

"I think Sam is right, what little we could translate seems to indicate that this is some kind of power conversion site. It talks about capturing the power of the gods and bestowing blessings."

"Okay, so assuming the gods are goa'uld or something similarly powerful then this is what? An immortal machine?"

"It's possible sir." Daniel said wiping at his sweaty face.

Jack sighed and picked up his radio.

"Max, if you can hear me and you're in the temple we're outside, if you can move you have five minutes to haul your ass out here –"

"Colonel, I'm not in the temple, I'm on the ridge looking down at it. I think you need to get out of there sir, something is happening to the clouds." Max's distorted voice crackled back.

Daniel looked up and saw that the underside of the clouds around the temple were _boiling_, as though they were heavy smoke and some massive object were forcing its way through them only the object never appeared, the clouds just stayed in place writhing and boiling like a snake pit.

Jack gestured and the team began racing back toward Methos and Jarod. The quartet joined the duo and the six of them raced toward the hill, SG-1 shed equipment as they trying to lighten their loads, each kept water, first aid gear, and minimal weapons. Faces shining with sweat in the surreal red light they hit the base of the hill as the lightning broke its cage and lashed out at the surrounding land. One bolt transfixed Jarod, another blew Methos off his feet SG-1 froze in place then hit the ground instinctively avoiding being the tallest things in range.

Jack and Sam belly crawled toward Methos' prone form while Daniel and Teal'c tried to reach Jarod. The men drew up short as tiny crimson bolts of energy stabbed at them from the ground forcing them to retreat when they drew too close to Jarod.

The big immortal was frozen in place, a bolt of the unnatural lightning entering his body between his shoulder blades and exiting just below his belly button. His rank-less uniform had two holes blown in it to make way for the lightning but was otherwise untouched, his face was frozen in a rictus of pain, eyes clenched shut and jaws open in a soundless scream, arms and legs flung out spread eagled.

"Jesus." Daniel breathed as Teal'c guided them back and away from Jarod toward Methos and the rest of SG-1.

"Carter, options?" Jack asked and tried his radio again. A burst of whining white static filled the bizarrely still and quiet air. He made a disgusted noise and released it.

""We cannot approach Jarod." Teal'c said holding up his singed hands.

"Why isn't the weather or the atmosphere reacting to all this electricity?" Daniel asked wincing as another pulse of crimson light rippled from the main bolt entering the temple and shot down the bolt holding Jarod.

"I think this planet was designed for this purpose alone!" Sam shouted as a deep rumble of apparent thunder rippled from the temple and ricocheted off the hill.

"Is Methos alive?" Jack asked as the thunder faded away.

"I can't tell!" Sam gasped as another pulse of thunder rocked the ground. "We have to get out of here, now." Sam continued terror evident in her features but voice rock steady.

"Sam you Daniel and Teal'c get Methos back to camp, I want you and the Marines to head back to the SGC let them know what's going on –"

"What about you Jack?" Daniel asked glasses reflecting another darker red thrum of light crawling down from the sky.

"I'm not leaving Jarod –"

"Jack –" A hand gripped Jack's then they looked down and saw Methos had woken or revived and dragged himself close enough to overhear them.

"Jarod's immortal –" Jack opened his mouth to argue "-or he's not and he has a spear through his torso, either way you staying here is only going to get you killed, I'll stay."

"Colonel O'Neill would it not make sense to retreat and return with greater numbers and more knowledge?" Teal'c asked in a growl as a new burst of raucous thunder rose up from the temple and the hill itself.

"We don't have time to argue!" Jack yelled.

"Then don't! Carrying me will slow you down and I can't feel my legs, just go Jack! This is my choice! I know you'll come back!"

"What about Max?" Jack asked the group.

"She'll be waiting at the campsite or the gate, get to her, don't tell her we're still here take her back if you have to kill her to do it." Methos said grimly.

Jack caught Methos wrist in an embrace and nodded once then rose with his team.

"Haul ass!" He snarled and they took off. It took all his will not to look back at Methos and Jarod. Behind them the thunder raged again and the light grew bloodier, richer, darker.

As they thundered into the camp Jack saw Max silhouetted against a large tree, her face and form lit up by the hell light from the valley as another pulse of energy left the sky. Her jaw was slightly agape, hair standing on end from the ambient energy. Without being told Teal'c snatched her up like a small child, held her over his shoulder and continued toward the gate without breaking stride. Max's sword was pinned beneath her against Teal'c's shoulder and she hadn't hung on to her sidearm, ditching it during her race back to camp. She writhed and struggled until she saw Jack's face lit by the bloodlight and her


	20. Scattered

Prentiss stared at her phone with a sense of dull resentment.

"Still no calls huh?" Morgan asked setting a latte on her desk.

"Am I insane? Seriously this whole relationship is just…wacked, right?"

"Sure but what in our lives isn't?" Morgan asked with a smile.

"Oh my god Morgan seriously? What is more demented than this?"

"Our work? The people we hunt?"

She quirked her mouth in an annoyed half sneer.

"Fine okay how's this J.J. and Will splitting up, Haley and Hotch splitting up, Rossi's three wives, my none, Reid's once in a decade dates that never go anywhere, of all of us you and Methos have actually made your relationship work the best."

"Wow, yeah when you put it like that." She said with a resigned half smile.

"Seriously girl you two give the rest of us hope don't give up on him."

"Damn you Derek Morgan and … your sense...making." She whined and picked up the latte.

"Now get back to work." He teased and wandered back to his desk.

Three days with no calls or emails had put her on edge. She sipped her latte and picked up another file.

"Hotch wants us in the roundtable room." J.J. said breezing through the bullpen.

Prentiss set the file aside, retrieved her weapon and phone from her desk, checked that she had her wallet and retrieved the latte on her way to the roundtable room. It was a routine, she barely thought about it as she did it. Still thinking about Methos and what he could possibly be up to got knew where she entered and took her seat. The rest of the team were already seated.

"We have a case in Maine." Hotchner said.

"Uh Maine as in?" Rossi asked.

Hotch shook his head.

"No, kidnapping and murder."

Prentiss forced herself to focus and absorb what Hotchner and Garcia were presenting.

"No sign of sexual assault?" She asked.

"No, the victims are kidnapped, drugged, and after the ransom is collected they're poisoned and the corpses are abandoned in open lots near industrial areas."

"There was a case similar to this a few years ago, somewhere on the East Coast…" Rossi muttered.

"Origami Killer." Hotch said shortly and glanced over the team.

Rossi looked confused and Prentiss was perplexed.

"Before my time?" She suggested.

"After mine." Rossi agreed staring at Hotchner.

"The Origami Killer was Scott Shelby, Shelby killed in an attempt to find a father willing to sacrifice everything to save his son. Shelby was killed by BAU Agent Norman Jayden."

"Jayden…" Prentiss said almost tasting the name.

"Jayden left the Bureau for medical reasons. He was one of fifteen test subjects participating in the field trial of the ARI program."

"So…Jayden killed Shelby and medically retired?" Rossi asked suspiciously.

"Jayden retired to spare the Bureau embarrassment. He performed admirably on the Mars case; the last victim, Shaun Mars, and his father were safely reunited. Jayden killed Shelby in self-defense." Hotchner said softly.

"So…medical retirement?" Rossi asked.

"Jayden was a valued agent he succumbed to side effects of the ARI program."

Prentiss felt tension in the room but forged on.

"Okay so what were the similarities?" She asked changing the topic.

"The dumping ground, lack of sexual interference." Reid supplied.

"That's it?" Prentiss asked.

He shrugged and no one else chimed in.

"Well I agree that the lack of sexual activity or sexually motivated activity is rare still there's likely no relationship between the cases." Morgan pointed out.

"Agreed." Hotchner said and the briefing continued.

Later on the plane Prentiss sat across from Rossi.

"You look like the cat that ate the canary." He said regarding her with a small smile.

"You know more than you let on about the Mars case."

"Who? Me?" He asked and reached for his newspaper. Prentiss picked it up first.

"Spill."

"I'm just working on some hunches nothing concrete."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Look if my hunches seem to be baring fruit I'll speak up."

She handed him the paper.

"Right."

* * *

><p>"I'm going back!" She screamed and hauled on the thick leather restraints holding her to a reinforced gurney.<p>

"Valium!" Frasier snapped at her nurse as two Airmen sporting security forces insignia struggled to hold Max down.

The nurse slapped a syringe full of Valium – a dose that would kill a human – into Frasier's hand and assisted the Airman in holding her down as Frasier administered it.

Max went limp and her heart rate slowed to a crawl on the monitor. Slowly the two orderlies and the nurse released her.

"Alright get those restraints tightened she'll be up again in an hour." Frasier sighed and brushed a loose strand of her red hair out of her eyes.

O'Neill entered at a brisk walk and paused midstep.

"Miss the show?" He asked.

"I have her on horse sized doses of valium and that's only knocking her down for an hour or so Sir." Frasier sighed.

"Christ."

"I can move onto stronger medications but she'll get used to them in time it's the same old problem." She said tossing the used syringe into a biohazard container and running a hand over her tired face. "I wish this was the first time we'd dealt with this with her but you know what's going to happen eventually."

Jack looked down at Max's sleep passive face.

"Can you dose her so she'll listen to reason?"

"I don't know, I can try but it's tricky sir, too much and she'll be incoherent, not enough and she'll be violent."

"Alright I'll go talk to the general see what he thinks, come with me?" Jack asked and offered his arm. She laughed and waved him off.

"I'll be up shortly I have the final reports on the effect of the electrical radiation on you and the others to present."

"Titillating, I look forward to it." He said somberly. She laughed and shook her head as he left.

But Jack wasn't as happy as his banter might suggest. The humans had made it off the temple planet just fine, even sent back a squadron of drones and two specially equipped MALPs. He couldn't say the same for the immortals. Max was raving and violent, desperate to return to it and there was no sign of Methos or Jarod. The drones had managed to capture stills and video footage of the area they'd last been seen in but there was no indication of where they had gone or how they had gotten there.

"Sir, I know that you don't want another team to go out there –"

"Colonel O'Neill you and SG-1 are forbidden from that planet. You're too valuable to risk –"

"Sir, what about Jarod and Methos? They trusted us.

Hammond set his jaw and regarded Jack with a stern eye.

"Colonel I respect you and I know what you and your team are capable of but you are not going back to that planet."

Jack closed his eyes and sat back in his chair apparently resigned.

Hammond wasn't a fool he had watched O'Neill avoid and disobey orders before and was entirely certain that Jack was planning to do so again.

Doctor Frasier arrived; General Hammond kept an eye on Jack as Frasier presented her conclusions.

"Sir it appears that every human on that planet when the lightning struck has, well, I'll put it this way, if you opened a spa on that place you'd be rich in a month."

"What do you mean doctor?"

"Colonel O'Neill, the knee you injured ten years ago in that jump accident, how does it feel?" She asked.

Jack frowned. "It's fine, never felt better actually."

"Exactly. I did full scans on all of you, your knee doesn't just feel better sir, it _is_ better. It has been completely healed."

"What?" He asked ever the skeptic.

"I have the X rays to prove it sir."

"General doesn't this change things? If going there actually makes us stronger?"

"There's more sir, it's subjective but worth mentioning."

"What?"

"You seem…younger sir, your hair is darker and you look less well, worn."

"Thanks?" He suggested with a frown.

"Doctor Frasier is it safe to return to the planet?"

"If the activity from the temple has died down it should be." She said.

"Sir we can leave Max here but we have to try to find Jarod and Methos." Jack insisted.

"Doctor Frasier I want you to accompany SG-1."

"Yes sir, I'll need at least one nurse."

"Very well, but no one else."

"Sir Max –"

"Will have to stay here until we know what happened to the others. Tell her you're going maybe that will calm her down." Hammond said firmly.

Jack nodded and didn't push it.

"Max listen to me, I'm going back for them, we all are but you have to stay here." Jack said softly. Max had roused from her valium stupor. Rather than attempting to drug her appropriately Frasier had recommended that Jack try to get through her to as the latest dose wore off.

"Jack…" Max hissed mouth desert dry from the drugs.

"Yeah?"

"Don't come back without them…promise me…"

"You got it kid." Jack said and squeezed her hand.

"I think that did it." Frasier said as Jack straightened. She was watching Max's monitor.

"It looks like she's actually sleeping normally now."

"Sleeping on duty. Typical." Jack sighed.

* * *

><p>The planet's weather was cooler than on their first visit, the sky slightly overcast, it felt like it would rain soon. Jack stared up at it as the rest of SG-1 exited the wormhole followed by doctor Frasier and a single nurse. Both wore SGC uniforms and carried weapons in addition to their medical equipment.<p>

"You can feel the static in the air." Frasier marveled.

"Yeah place is a real rollercoaster. Temple's this way Doc." Jack said and lead the way. They made excellent time on the familiar ground. The temple sat passive as it had before although the door remained open.

"Sam?"

"Readings are normal, the drones are flying a search pattern overhead taking constant readings."

Jack nodded.

"Daniel, thoughts? Warnings? Addendums?"

"Addendums? Uh no, not really just…keep your eyes open." Daniel sighed and shrugged his shoulders, he felt edgy and afraid. They had found prints and marks on the ground near where the immortals had been left but there was still no sign as to what direction they had taken or even any footprints indicating where they had walked or if they'd been ambushed, they were just gone.

* * *

><p>"Prentiss, is your head in this?" Morgan asked her.<p>

They were standing in front of the ubiquitous board they set up for every case, notes, photos and file pages tacked to it.

"Yes of course my head is in the case Derek."

"Just makin' sure."

"Hey, stop stealing my chocolate thunder's affections missy." Garcia mock growled at Prentiss.

"Speaking of, any word from stretch?" Garcia asked.

"Uh no actually not for a couple days now."

Garcia's perky expression faded and she took Emily's arm.

"Em didn't he swear up and down that he would call or email every day?"

"Yeah but the work he's doing is classified – even above your level, trust me, and he warned me there might be situations where he would be out of communication." Prentiss said half laughing as she extricated herself from Garcia's grip.

"Do you want me to –"

"He's consulting with the USAF Garcia do you think you could find out without tripping a flag somewhere?"

"Uhhh well maybe?" She suggested.

"Right, so no he's fine I'm sure besides now I can yell at him."

"Prentiss I'd like you and Morgan to interview the witnesses from the latest kidnapping."

"On it." Morgan said slipping an arm around Prentiss' shoulders and scooting them toward the door.

"Hussy!" Garcia called after them.

"We'll have to call her." Sam sighed staring down at the temple.

"No, we'll have to tell her in person." Daniel corrected her.

Sam nodded and wiped at a smear of dirt across her nose and cheek.

"Carter, got what you need?" Jack asked walking up the shallow slope to them

"I think so sir."

"No think so's Major this is a one way trip."

"Sir?"

"Yes Major?" He asked putting his sunglasses away.

"What…what do you think happened to them?" She asked.

"Hell Carter I don't know, maybe they went home." Jack sighed.

* * *

><p>The noise went on unchecked for so long that he forgot there had ever been a time, a point of existence, without it. It changed pitch at times, sometimes faded almost completely or became jagged and shuddering but it was always there in some form. Sometimes it was just a buzz in the back of his skull other times it encompassed his entire world a piercing agonizing noise that reverberated in his skull until he could no longer think.<p>

Now it had died away to a jagged warbling note. He sat up then, felt the things on his hands warm and pulse with his movement. Raised his head, ignored the ragged locks that fell into his eyes, tossed his head back like a horse annoyed by a fly and felt his beard scrape his bare chest.

"You're very resilient."

It was the scuttling insect thing that claimed to be his companion. He looked at it for a long moment then huffed out a noise that was sort of a laugh if a laugh could be the polar opposite of itself with a healthy dose of despair tossed in.

"Shhhh don't cry you're doing very well, really very well indeed."

He shook his head fiercely.

"Oh now then don't fuss, fussing won't get you anywhere. Just be quiet and be still and you'll be fine!" The companion tittered and fell silent.

He looked at his fists. Gobs of something he had once thought of as similar to plastic encased them in shapeless blobs, the blobs pulsed with merry little lights as he watched. The more he moved the warmer they got and the more they tightened on his already clenched fists.

He sat on his bare feet, shoulders and back hunched forward arms stretched in front of him. The noise was getting louder again, higher pitched.

"What…what is that?" He asked the companion.

"Why, it's you!" The companion giggled and he realized with a metallic edged horror that it _was_ him, it was him screaming and sobbing…had always been him, would _always_ be him.

As he listened the noise changed and became the big brother of the laugh he'd thought he'd made earlier. As his terrible laughter rang out from his battered chest the companion giggled and clapped its obsidian hands together with glee.

* * *

><p>"Doc you got everything you need?"<p>

"For now, yes but we should come back periodically we'll need updated readings in a few days."

"Carter says the same."

"Methos and Jarod?"

"Nothing. Not a sign of them. Daniel and Teal'c checked the temple, its empty."

Frasier looked grave.

"We can't give up on them."

"No you and the others will go back I'm going to stay and find them."

"The General won't be pleased."

"Nope."

"Probably cost your career."

"Yep."

"Set a terrible example for Max."

"She doesn't need one."

"You'll need help."

"Ehhh maybe."

"Sergeant!" Frasier called. The nurse that had accompanied her finished packing up their samples and approached.

"Take the samples and my notes back, I'll be right behind you." She said with a smile. Jack glanced at the sergeant and smiled at Frasier.

"Well, if we're going to do this we may as well do it right." She said folding her arms.

"Campers!" Jack called and the team congregated near him.

"I need one volunteer to go back and tell the general that the rest of us are staying. You'll accompany the sergeant and probably face charges."

"I'll go." Daniel said immediately.

"You're certain?" Sam asked.

"If you get Methos back you won't need an archeologist or linguist. Besides there's not much Hammond can do to a civilian aside from firing me, charges are tricky." Daniel said squaring his shoulders.

Sam kissed his cheek, Jack shook his hand and Teal'c embraced him briefly but hard enough that Daniel would feel the bruise three days later. SG-1 and Frasier followed Daniel and the sergeant back to the gate.

"Doctor, it's been an honor and a pleasure." The sergeant said and saluted her and SG-1. The officers returned the salute crisply.

"I'll tell them you stayed behind to find the rest of your team, Dr. Jackson, shall we?"

"Be safe or we'll come back for you too." Jackson threatened unshed tears in his eyes. And then they were through the event horizon and SG-1 one and Frasier were gone.

Hammond and a security team were waiting.

Daniel faced him with a sad smile.

"I thought he might buck for a court martial this time." Hammond glowered hiding his own emotion behind his gruff Texan drawl.

"I guess I'll report to custody then." Daniel said voice soft.

"Nonsense Dr. Jackson you're not under Colonel O'Neill's command." Hammond grunted and nodded at the Sergeant.

"Doctor Frasier's samples?"

"Yes sir, I uh I should get them back to the lab."

"See to it Airman, we need that data." Daniel and Hammond watched the sergeant flee.

"I can't send anymore personnel out there Dr. Jackson." Hammond said sounding tired and upset.

"They wouldn't ask you to sir."

"No, he wouldn't." Hammond agreed staring up at the inactive stargate.

* * *

><p>"Sir, with respect this may have been a completely awful idea!" Carter shouted over the racket of what sounded like something the size of a house forcing a path through the woods.<p>

"Agreed Major!" Jack shouted back and looked over his shoulder. Something in the woods roared and struck a tree sending a shiver along its length until the trunk shattered at the point of impact and the tree crashed forward.

Teal'c appeared and snatching Carter and O'Neill by the backs of their uniforms hurled them out of the way of the tree then ducked and covered his head. Carter and Jack got to their feet and looked around for Teal'c, a large branch still attached to the tree shifted and Teal'c stood massaging his head.

"Nice reflexes big guy." Jack said admiringly as another roar ripped through the woods.

"Let's admire his muscles later sir!" Carter suggested and the trio set out again at a ground eating lope.

"So, planet does have life, make a note of that Carter." Jack gasped as they raced along.

"Noted sir." She replied between breaths.

"O'Neill, I believe the beast can be killed."

"See that's the spirit!" Jack said and glanced back toward the source of the noise.

"We need a plan O'Neill." Teal'c said grimly.

"Plan…okay, T you remember the big cliff?" Jack asked.

Teal'c nodded while running.

"Carter?"

"Big cliff, yes sir." She replied ducking under a branch.

"Right, let's run at it." He said and jerked a hard left. To their credit, or insanity his companions followed.

The beast looked as though it had been torn from a Roman fresco, it looked like a twelve foot minotaur gorilla hybrid, although it had lost a horn when Teal'c scored a direct hit on it with his staff weapon. The Jaffa had been aiming for the creature's head at the time. Its shoulders were nearly seven feet across its arms long enough to drag its knuckles on the ground if it wasn't bashing down trees.

It paused to test the air for its prey and let out a frustrated snarl as it realized once again they had changed direction and were attempting to elude it. Letting out a roar or rage and pain fueled by the bloody stump where its horn had been it took up pursuit again.

"So…big cliff…running at it…next….step..sir?" Carter asked as they raced full speed toward the aforementioned cliff. He held up a hand and they slid to a halt less than six feet from the edge.

Behind them the Minotaur creature appeared, paused to let out a screaming roar, then lowered its head and raced toward them.

"Get ready to jump." Jack snapped between breaths.

The trio faced the charging creature, legs bent ready to jump. It drew close enough that they could smell it, a rank acrid stink of sweat and old leather, then they jumped and the beast emitted a despairing screech as it tipped over the edge, it twisted in midair and scrabbled for the cliff. Its powerful right hand slammed down on the ledge creating a fissure that gave way as the entire ledge cracked and fell away taking a good six feet of the cliff top with it.

Carter let out a strangled cry as the ground she'd been slumped on ceased to exist. She snatched at the dirt under her hands frantically trying to gain purchase Teal'c's powerful hand shot out and locked onto her wrist. She felt bones grind together and something give but hauled herself up until she could reach Teal'c's shoulder and locked her fist in the cloth of his ragged uniform. The big Jaffa set his heels and hauled her back from the edge.

"Worst…idea…ever…" Carter gasped as she lay sprawled across Teal'c. Teal'c nodded slowly and leveled a look at Jack over Carter's shoulder.

"I…concur…" He rumbled breathlessly.

"Yeah….I know…but, it _worked_." Jack wheezed and fell to his knees next to them.

Behind them a massive swathe of forest lay in ruins.


	21. No Answers Here

After an hour or so Carter got to her feet –having slid off Teal'c's broad chest shortly after the beast had taken its one way trip – and carefully approached the cliff's edge. The distance was hard to judge but it was certainly high enough to kill a human outright. Below she could see the bulk of the beast lying in a ring of gore.

"It's dead." She called back to the men.

"Salvageable?" Jack asked hoarsely. Teal'c got up and pulled Jack to his feet the two mean approached Carter.

"I doubt it but we should probably check. We're running low on the last shipment of MREs." Carter sighed.

In spite of his warnings General Hammond had used offworld contacts to ferry minimal supplies to the trio. A few had even contained notes and gifts from other SGC personnel. All had held a brief status report from Daniel regarding what they had found so far back on Earth. Those could be easily summed up with nothing.

It had been more than three months, Max was in the brig at the new Alpha Site because General Hammond wouldn't risk her and knew full well she would head to the rest of her team given any opportunity.

"Minotaur tartar sounds scrumptious." Jack sighed dolefully.

They all knew that they would be forced to return to the SGC and soon if the food situation didn't change. In all their time on the planet they still hadn't seen another living thing. Until Jack had inadvertently roused the minotaur beast.

Without speaking the three fell in line and began trekking back through the shattered forest. Beyond them the hell-light from the temple still shone, the clouds still boiled, and the bolts of unnatural pistoning lightning still fell.

* * *

><p>"Sir we aren't learning anything new. We've literally hit a dead end."<p>

"Dr. Jackson we have ever ally the SGC has and more than a few neutral parties looking into this. Every expert we can lay hands on has weighed in and the unanimous conclusion is that no one knows what the hell is going on down there and there's a mysteriously huge blank space surrounding that planet's existence in the lore and history of all nearby inhabited planets."

"But they're stuck there!" Daniel snapped finally losing his patience."

"You want me to send you there so you can be trapped too?"

"Just let me retrieve SG-1."

"And if they won't come?"

Daniel set his jaw.

"I'll come back, someone will have to."

"And who do you think I should send on this one-way mission?"

"Any number of Airman, Marines, Soldiers, hell international support troops will volunteer Sir."

"That's precisely my point Dr. Jackson, we could have the entirety of the SGC marching off on a suicide mission."

"Sir, we owe them this, all of us. How many times have they saved our entire damn planet?"

"You had a hand in those events yourself Dr. Jackson."

"And I'm asking you to do this, begging you sir."

Hammond looked grave and somehow older than Daniel recalled ever seeing him.

"Very well Dr. Jackson. You and two support personnel will go in two hours. Pack what you need now but pack light, we'll send a MALP through then you and your companions."

"Who will come with me?" Daniel asked after a hesitant pause.

"Dr. Frasier and myself."

"Sir?"

"I'm retiring next month Dr. Jackson, I've already briefed my replacement, he'll be here tomorrow morning and will officially assume his role two days later."

"Sir you have a family –"

"Yes I do son and we're going to get three of them back."

* * *

><p>He hadn't seen Methos since the lightning struck. Jarod had awakened in a dark cell made of some kind of metal or stone. It was almost perfectly smooth and so small he couldn't stand or stretch out to his full length. He sat in a half crouch and slept in a loose fetal position.<p>

Time lost all meaning his internal clock was shot to hell and as far as he could tell light never reached him. It could have been hours or weeks while he cowered in the cell. His only sustenance was a thin moist slurry that accumulated in a glass smooth divot in one corner of the cell. He would lap it or spoon in on his fingers. It tasted of cold iron and peat. He never needed to urinate or defecate and after a while his hunger and thirst seemed to fall away and he no longer knelt painfully on the cold floor to sup from the puddle.

Sleep was the next thing he lost. As time went on he couldn't tell when he was asleep or awake. At first he had dreams and the dreams were full of color and daylight, people he cared about, the nightmares too were oddly welcomed just for their color and their difference from his 'days' of oblivion. Then the dreams faded away followed by the nightmares. He still tried to sleep at first, more from boredom than much else. He stopped at some point, found he was content to simply sit in the cool darkness.

He never had histrionics, never the mad laughter or babbling he may have resorted to in the past. He simply stopped being Jarod and became something new.

* * *

><p>The cuffs on Methos' fists had never been removed, though, at times, the pressure would slacken. The times when he pleased them.<p>

He didn't know who or for that matter what they were. He didn't care. They were the Other and he would destroy them.

Of course he first had to get free of their bindings and games.

The bonds were the main problem. He had never managed to shift them let alone make a go at removing them. Whatever they were made from would shatter on impact; it gave slightly not quite bouncing. He had yet to find any edge he could use to cut it but his own teeth hadn't damaged them either. He tried to pull his arms apart, tried so hard that the bonds had clamped down and broken both his hands.

He healed.

Time fell away he would spend most days in a huge room hands bound. He was dressed in the filthy rags of his borrowed uniform, barefoot, hair and beard scraggly. He wondered about Jarod's fate, if SG-1 had made it off the planet, if Max had gone with them, whether anyone had come back for them. He wondered about where he was, if they had left the planet or perhaps were deep inside it. After a while he stopped wondering about that as well.

* * *

><p>The three members of the would be rescue party waited patiently as the MALP's footages and readings were fed back to them.<p>

"The event over the temple is ongoing Sir." Siler murmured as he adjusted the video screen displaying the footage.

"I would have thought it had stopped by now." Dr. Frasier said with a frown.

"Ready?" Daniel asked nervously. The MALP carried the majority of their gear as well as two specially outfitted aerials drones that were programmed to run a search pattern and report back to the MALP's main computer where the trio could track and triangulate results.

They walked forward side by side and into the event horizon without hesitating.

* * *

><p>"Sir! It's a MALP." Carter hissed. The three were carefully ensconced in a hillock overlooking the Stargate and between it and the temple. Carter was holding half a pair of binoculars, the other half had been smashed in a rock slide shortly after their semi-permanent arrival.<p>

"Any sign of movement?"

"Not yet sir." Carter said tensely. Teal'c silently shifted his weight preparing to leave their cover and approach the gate.

As the two men strained to see more Carter let out a surprised gasp and seconds later the event horizon collapsed.

"Sir, it's…Daniel…Dr. Frasier and…Sir it's General Hammond."

"What?" Jack asked and reached for the broken binocular.

"I'll be damned, let's get down there." He said after verifying the General's presence.

It took them until almost nightfall. The three had set up camp at the base of the stargate using sensors to set up a perimeter. They were studying something on or in the MALP chassis as the trio approached.

Daniel saw them first. They were careful to approach with caution not sure if the rescuing trio were real or some kind of ruse.

"Sir." Daniel whispered then cleared his throat and repeated it louder when Hammond didn't react. That caught Frasier's attention as well.

"It's them." Daniel said and the unseen iron rod of tension that had held him rigid for months fell away. Without waiting for permission he bolted toward them.

Carter caught him first and hugged him fiercely. He lead them back to the camp and immediately opened up freeze dried rations for them.

"Status?" General Hammond asked.

"Present and accounted for Sir, a little worn and a little skinny but we're here."

"Any sign of the others?"

"No, no sir we haven't seen a sign of them. We can't get close to the temple."

"I have an idea about that." Carter said around a mouthful of rehydrated fish. Janet was examining Teal'c and making a face at a fresh scar on Carter's forearm visible through the ragged uniform sleeve.

"Sir I'd like to get them back to the SGC as soon as possible for further testing and treatment."

"Treatment?" Hammond asked.

"They're malnourished and dehydrated for starters sir."

"Very well, the MALP is secured and can stay behind until the drones have completed their survey. Dr. Jackson would you dial the SGC."

* * *

><p>He woke and found that the bonds were gone. His hands were thin, frail, pale and withered. But they were functional. He didn't remember falling asleep. The room was the same for the most part except for the wall opposite him. There a hole had opened. Just large enough from to enter if he stooped.<p>

Cautiously he approached it and entered. It was a smooth walled tunnel, the surface almost felt like glass to his sensitive fingers. He walked until his legs were tired and his neck ached so he paused and crouched, carefully stretched his neck and pondered his options. Really the only viable one was to keep walking. So when the ache dulled he rose to his stooped former stance and kept going.

When he got tired again he sat and leaned against the cool side of the tunnel. Wondered where he could find food or water then slipped into a doze. In the cell he had eaten wafers that reminded him of desserts but were almost entirely tasteless, sometimes he thought there was an aftertaste of some sort of grass. He drank only water.

He stirred finally, opened his eyes, rose and started his trek again. As he was considering resting again he saw a glitter of light ahead of him. Weary but determined and with no other option he moved toward the light.

It was an opening, it opened, as far as he could tell, on to a sunny plain filled with long grass and wild flowers. He hesitated at the mouth of the strange tunnel. His instincts were blazing with warnings but of what? Instincts were useful had saved him countless times but what were they reacting to?

He took a deep breath and tasted pollen, dust, fresh wind and grass. He moved closer to the exit. Knelt and rand his fingers through the light sandy soil that met the obsidian like surface of the tunnel. It was gritty, slightly dusty, and as he peered closely at it he could see tiny rocks. He tossed the material aside and looked out at the horizon. No sign of trees or water, no hills and no mountains.

Methos sighed and relaxed slightly. He could turn around, return to the cell and be fed and watered or he could leave, walk out into that desolate windswept grassy emptiness and die of dehydration in less than a week. He looked back down the throat of the tunnel then down at his hands, boney and withered. Smiling ever so slightly he moved forward and buried his bare toes in the soil of the plain, then, grinning like a small child on the first day of snow, he stepped out of the tunnel.

* * *

><p>As the SGC personnel packed up the few things worth taking back immediately there was an ear splitting snarl of a sonic boom that echoed far and wide and the abomination in the skies went still, the hell-light faded, and finally only normal gray clouds were left slowly drifting apart.<p>

"Holy shit." Daniel breathed as the rest either reached for weapons or scanning equipment.

"Carter?" Jack asked tightly.

"I don't know sir the drones are still up but none of the data makes sense."

"Sir?" Jack asked the General.

"Dr. Jackson radio the SGC, we're going to need a science team ."

* * *

><p>He walked until he couldn't then he sat, sometimes he dozed, other times he tried to think of a way out of his predicament. He found that he was walking slightly downhill he smiled at that and kept going, water ran downhill maybe he would find a stream or a creek.<p>

On the third day he was saved. He wasn't aware of the strident buzzing, not consciously, until the source flew over him. Then he realized it had been present for a long time, perhaps hours. He looked up and saw an absurdly familiar sight. A drone, a six foot wingspan and a three foot body it buzzed over him again he looked up at it slightly slack jawed then grinning. As it looped him a third time he saw an insignia on its wing, a USAF insignia.

He tried to follow it but it was moving too quickly. So he sat where he was and rested certain that the little drone had reported him and help would be coming. It did but not until after nightfall.

* * *

><p>Daniel was studying the MALP images, they had yet to be cleared to approach the temple but in addition to the science team two squads of Marines and another SG team had been dispatched. The marooned members of SG-1 had been relieved of duty pending medical clearance. Max was still at the SGC having been relieved of her prisoner status and returned – temporarily- for processing and re-assignment to the nameless planet. She would bring Jack and the others with her when she arrived.<p>

So until he could get eyes on the temple and do real work Daniel spent most of his time watching the drone footage still being fed to the MALP. One drone had spotted the mostly rotted and dessicated corpse of the strange creature that had attacked Jack and the others. While the rot confirmed that microorganisms survived on the planet there were no signs of scavenging. The second drone had found little aside from seemingly endless grasslands. Daniel watched that footage now bored and frustrated at the lack of progress but desperately hoping to find some sign of his missing friend.

Then as he was starting to doze off from the sheer repetitive monotony of the view he sat bolt upright and lurched forward, he scrabbled at the rudimentary controls and managed to rewind and freeze the footage.

It was a ragged man staring up into the lens of the drone's belly camera.

"Where is this!?" Daniel demanded.

Two hours later Daniel, the rest of SG-1 including Max, Dr. Frasier and a handful of Marines were packed into three all terrain troop transport vehicles and hauling ass toward the drone's coordinates where the man had been sighted. The footage had been mediocre quality and the man wore rags, he was dirty and his beard and hair were unkempt but Daniel knew it was Methos and not just because a portion of an SGC patch had remained on his shoulder he knew those eyes.

"There's no sign of him here Sir." One of the Marines said.

"There have to be tracks." Daniel insisted the Marine grunted and gestured to his squad. They fanned out and after a few minutes one raised a fist. The rest piled back into the vehicles. They made slow progress and it wasn't until full night that they found him. He was curled up in a tight ball apparently asleep.

The racket of their approach hadn't disturbed him. Max and Frasier were the first ones off the vehicles. As Max approached the stirred and tried to sit up only to fall back into the grass.

"Hey shh you're safe." Max said kneeling next to him. Frasier nodded at Jack and he and the rest of SG-1 approached and carefully lifted Methos. They bundled him into the nearest vehicle with Frasier and her nurse climbing aboard.

"Run an IV." She said tersely and began to examine him as well as she could.

"Methos where's Jarod?" Max asked as he roused and tried to sit up.

"Hey you're okay you're safe we're taking you back to the SGC but we have to know where Jarod is, come on you old codger." She urged.

"I don' know." He wheezed.


	22. Progress

"Sir, I have an idea."

"That's novel and exciting Carter, about what in particular?" Jack asked around a yawn.

"I need to run it by Daniel." She said. He looked at her and realized she was almost bouncing with excitement.

"Major." He grunted as she left in search of Daniel.

He was sitting on a fallen log glumly staring down at the temple.

"Hey." Carter said approaching him.

He blinked and looked up at her, froze for a moment as he took in her excitement then smiled and relaxed.

"You have an idea."

"This kind of technology, it's like nothing we've seen before right?"

"Well, yes, aside from Carthis –"

"Right, so either this is a completely unknown technology created by an unknown species or group or-"

"Or?"

"Or it's not."

"Sorry I don't really see –"

"The Furling."

"Sam we –"

"What's our other option Daniel?"

"Dead end."

"Right, look the Asgard were one of the Four Great Races right? Maybe they can help us –"

"Sam as far as we know they don't even know about immortals –"

"Right, as far as we know. The Asgard have been involved with humans for centuries Daniel."

"We need to talk to Jack."

"So you want to call Thor and ask him to contact the Furling?"

"Well, or see if he or the Asgard in general know anything about them or the temple." Daniel sighed.

"This is going to be an awkward conversation."

"Hey, at least they can't blame this on the humans." Sam said half-heartedly.

"No, just on our newest BFFs. Alright I'll get on the horn to the SGC."

* * *

><p>"Colonel, you're saying that a hyper advanced species of utopian pacifists may have something to do with that lifeless planet and its temple?"<p>

"See the thing is I don't think that, Carter does. If I thought it well, it would be a stupid idea sir let's be honest but Major Carter-"

"You understand that this is an incredibly delicate situation?"

"Sir, we're the incorrigible rascals of intergalactic civilizations, the adults love to be irritated by our shenanigans."

"Right, remind me of that the next time we end up with our hats in hand begging for help."

* * *

><p>"The Furling are not available." Thor said evenly.<p>

Jack ground his teeth.

"Look Thor, buddy, I'm asking for help for my people for my friends, okay? If the Furling are out of town or whatever that's fine but can you help us at all?"

"Possibly."

"Goody. Don't make me bring up the replicators Thor, don't make me be that guy."

"Before the Furling joined the ranks of the Four Great Races they were a warrior people, their technological achievements were greater than our own."

"So what they laid down arms and started to weave daisy chains instead?"

"They created guardians; they used your people as the blueprint."

"The…blueprint…immortals." Jack felt his stomach twist.

"Correct. The Furling lost control of them during a rebellion. The remnants were abandoned on Earth. It is surprising that any still live."

"Uh Thor, I know one of them, she's younger than I am how is that possible if the Furling created them?"

"I do not know the secret of their creation was closely guarded."

"Okay so where does this leave us?"

"I am not certain."

* * *

><p>"So Thor doesn't have a clue where the Furling are?" Daniel asked.<p>

"He couldn't or wouldn't say when the last time the Furling even had direct contact with the Asgard was."

"Shit." Daniel muttered. Jack blinked and shook his head.

"You're being ruined hanging around all these soldier types Daniel."

"So the Furling used humans to create immortals as their…guardians?" Daniel asked.

"That's what Thor said what exactly that means I don't know."

Daniel frowned in thought.

"So we don't know that the temple isn't Furling right?" Sam asked.

"Well, no." Jack agreed.

"Why would Thor call them guardians? And why would an advanced warrior species need guardians?" Daniel muttered.

"So now what?"

"This isn't a dead end." Sam said.

"Really? Looks deadish from here." Jack sighed and glanced at Daniel.

"No, Sam is right, if we assume it's Furling we can make a guess at what we're dealing with."

"Because weeks of guessing so far has been how useful?" Jack snapped.

"What's the alternative Jack? Give up?"

He shot Daniel a venomous look and left the trio.

"He's just –"

"Frustrated. I know." Daniel sighed.

* * *

><p>She was watching the temple storm. When she thought about the temple and its storm they were one thing, a name Temple Storm.<p>

"Like a rockstar." She muttered and licked her dry lips.

Far below her she could see one of the science teams taking soil samples and apparently arguing. She shook her head and shifted her weight slightly. She was standing in a stand of trees hidden from casual eyes.

She didn't feel comfortable around the rest of the SGC personnel anymore. She felt like they looked at her the way they would a Goa'uld or worse. The judgment, real or assumed, weighed on her. But she stayed on the planet because going back to the SGC would mean facing Methos without Jarrod. Would mean defeat and all she had left now was succeeding in this much at least. Her fear of imprisonment was nonexistent.

So she watched the scientists through her binoculars and pretended the trees hid her from the camp and everything was normal. Even if the sky was boiled blood and it was all she could do not to scream.

* * *

><p>"Agent Prentiss?" The woman that met Emily at the Visitor's center looked harassed but kind. She was a slim red head with sparkling eyes and a firm manner.<p>

"I'm Doctor Janet Frasier."

"Dr. Frasier, how –"

"I'll brief you once we're through security. I can tell you now that he's stable and not in any imminent danger."

Her stomach did a slow drunken roll as her throat closed. What did that mean, imminent danger? He was immortal- before her thoughts could continue down that path Dr. Frasier was leading her to a dark blue van and the cookie cutter beige buildings of the security checkpoints were whipping by. Then there was paperwork, IDs, words and noise and layers and layers of security until they were alone in an elevator.

Frasier pulled a card out of her pocket and slipped it into the elevator's control panel then hit a key.

"My clearance –"

"Has been rushed. He's in bad shape but recovering. He's lucid and aware but he's been through an ordeal. You'll be the best judge of his psychological and emotional state."

"You said he wasn't in imminent danger."

"Correct. His physical health is improving and his prognosis is good."

"But?" Emily said in a tight clipped voice.

"His immortality it's been…modified somehow."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked but the elevator opened and an Airman and marine entered and then there was a whirl of gray hallways, uniforms and colored stripes, exit signs, warning signs, locked doors and finally at last a cramped infirmary and Methos.

He was asleep, haggard, thin, and somehow older but alive.

"He –"

"Looks older? I know. That is what has me concerned." Frasier said quietly and lead Emily into her office.

"He's not immortal anymore is he?"

"Honestly, I don't know. I keep running the tests we use to baseline immortal personnel but the results keep coming up wrong. I'm doing the best I can and have consulted relevant experts but frankly Agent Prentiss we simply don't know enough about immortals let alone one as old as Methos to do more than make educated guesses."

"Is he going to die?"

"No, not any time soon."

"Then that's all I need to know for now. Is Max here?"

"No, she's… away."

"Is she aware of what's going on?"

"Yes, she's assisting in the search for Jarod."

"How long has he been like this?"

"I've been treating him for a week."

"So he was gone for what? Months?" Prentiss asked bitterly.

"Agent –"

"I'm sorry this isn't your fault." Emily apologized quickly.

"You've been under incredibly stress." Frasier said gently. "Why don't you go sit with him? I'll arrange for guest quarters in the facility for you."

"Thank you."

* * *

><p>"Max are you coming to dinner?" Daniel asked peering through the thick branches of her favored perch. The setting sun shot shafts of gold through the unfamiliar bluish needles of the alien evergreens.<p>

"No, I'm fine here."

"Max, you haven't eaten or slept in over a day." Daniel chided.

"I'm fine Daniel I'm –"

"Immortal. Well la-di-da Max. You still need food, water, and sleep."

"You're not –"

"I'm your team mate Max and I put my life in your hands and right now I wouldn't trust you to drive let alone perform in combat."

She was silent, silhouetted by the sunset, facing the temple, the blood light from the clouds mingling with the orange fading sun to light the highlights of her features in cold fire light.

"Come on Max." He snapped.

"I can't Daniel." She said softly.

"Yes you can, just turn around and start walking."

"I know what you think of me. I feel how they look at me Daniel. I can't leave here and I can't go back to Earth not without Jarod and…I can't."

"Why do you doubt yourself?"

"What?"

"From the first day we met until now you've been eaten away by doubt and self-loathing. Believe me I'm an expert, I had to ascend and get thrown back to Earth to figure out that I was good enough. So tell me why you doubt yourself."

"Because I like to kill people Daniel."

"Max…

"Don't try to justify it Daniel, the fact is I like to take human life. I crave it and I'm very very good at it. Shit even armed experienced soldiers that know I'm coming can't stop me. So I doubt myself Daniel because there's cause to."

"I bet my body count is higher. I've cause the deaths of thousands maybe millions."

"By getting the gate to work? What about the Kelownans you saved when you sacrificed yourself? You don't think that helped balance things?"

"It's not about balance Max, it's about intention. Someone once told me that the only thing you ever have control of is whether you're good or evil."

"It's that easy for you?"

"It's that true. You're not evil."

"Who decides that Daniel? You? Ome de-what-the-fucks-her-name?" It was a low blow but Daniel didn't rise to the bait.

"You do Max, you have to forgive yourself and learn."

"Learn what? That it's a bad call to wipe out dozens of enemy combatants?"

"Max-"

"Look me in the eye and tell me it doesn't bother you Daniel."

"You're my friend Max, my family, I care about you. Come on; get something to eat and a good night's sleep."

"A snack and a nap."

"Do you have a better idea? Maybe standing vigil until you collapse would be a better call?"

He stood there in the gloaming, arms folded and shivering as the wind from the plains around the temple whipped up and brought an icy edge to the air, his head cocked slightly to one side, expression intent and almost angry. Finally, after a section of forever had passed and the last sunlight had vanished she moved.

"There, was that so hard?" He asked softly.

* * *

><p>"Hey." She said as his eyelids fluttered open.<p>

"You're here." He whispered.

"Yeah." She agreed, he held her hand weakly.

"Rumor has it I'm older now." He said in that same warm whisper.

"I'd say about ten years." She said and smoothed his ruffled hair.

"I'll be in trouble if the universe decides to pay the piper." He laughed.

"Dr. Frasier says you're stable."

"Just older?"

She looked troubled.

"There's more."

"She's not sure but your ability to heal may have been compromised."

"I'm not immortal anymore?"

"I…we don't know. She keeps running tests but the results are wildly variable each time."

"Max? If she's here –"

"She's offworld. Permanently."

"Jarod?"

"No word yet. What…what happened to you?" She spat the question out too afraid she wouldn't ask it to worry about phrasing.

"I don't really know. I just remember pieces."

* * *

><p>"Jack, she knows and it's tearing her apart."<p>

"What do you want me to say about it Daniel? Say it's okay? It's not."

"No obviously it's not but she needs to know you still give a damn."

"What if I don't?"

"Jack –"

"Ah for cryin' out loud, fine I'll talk to her."

* * *

><p>"Hey. Daniel says you're having a tough time."<p>

"I'm fine."

"You're a terrible liar Holloway, always have been. Why now?"

"Sir?"

"Why are you losing your shit now? Come on Holloway spill."

"I…I overheard you with Daniel…"

"Big deal so you heard part of an out of context conversation –"

"I heard the whole thing Sir, and I agree. I … when we find Jarod I want to go back and stand trial."

"Why? So they can convict you?"

"Sir, as long as the SGC is shielding me by keeping me off world it endangers the whole program. How do you think the public will react or the IOC when it comes to light that you deliberately shielded an accused mass murderer? I can handle prison Sir, shit they can even execute me. But we can't risk the program."

"Good."

"Sir?"

"Well, you beat me to it. Besides you're assuming you'll be convicted."

"But ... you said –"

"I know and I meant it. The number of casualties was excessive but you were acting in self-defense. You know anything about snow leopards?"

"S-snow leopards sir?"

"Yeah, furry guys that live in snowy places? Asia I think."

"Uh, no sir, not really."

"They're endangered. Partly because local herdsman's flocks were being devastated by them so the herders kill the leopards in retaliation."

"Sir –"

"Shut up your superior is talking." Jack growled.

"Yes sir." She replied quietly.

"The thing is, the leopards weren't being wasteful or malicious. They would get into the pens because they weren't predator proof but once they were in their kill instinct was triggered. They'd kill everything around them and not stop until movement ceased."

Max looked up at O'Neill frowning .

"So once the herdsman realized what was going on and some folks got involved with funds to fix the pens and educate the people about what a useful tourist dollar could be earned with a tour focused on snow leopards, well, things are improving for the kitties."

"Sir –"

"You need to fix your instincts Max. We'll help you and when this is all said and done we'll escort you back for a fair trial but you won't be soloing jack shit until then. From now until we head back to Earth you're to have a member of SG-1 with you at all times. No more brooding and lurking you're not Batman."

"Y-yes sir."

"And you will not stir from your rack for 8 solid hours, clear?"

"Yes sir." She said in a firmer voice.

"Good now finish up your delicious pre-packaged meal and hit the rack."

* * *

><p>"They gave me full clearance Methos."<p>

"I'm sure they did I just…I don't really remember much. The last clear memory I have is being found on the planet. Before that I remember arriving on the planet with Jarod and SG-1."

"How do you feel?"

"Tired I sleep eighteen hours a day and wake up tired." He said wryly.

"Dr. Frasier's tests are still inconclusive, she's running an analysis on all the results to try to determine if there's a pattern."

"How did you get leave?"

"I didn't, I've been officially seconded to the SGC."

"How?"

"I don't know, someone cited national security."

"Jack." Methos said and smiled.

* * *

><p>"It is prepared."<p>

"The other?"

"Released and reacquired by the primitives."

"The time has come. Release it that we may test it."

"There is another feral."

"Yes, it will be tasked with destroying the feral. We must know its potential."

"Right away."

* * *

><p>"Holloway, take point."<p>

"Yes sir."

"So am I the only one really weirded out by Max being y'know, pleasant and obedient?" Daniel asked as he checked his weapon.

"She's been through a lot." Sam said as she shrugged her tactical vest on.

"She's fine, come on campers."

Teal'c regarded his companions serenely for a moment then added, "It is indeed disconcerting."

"See? Teal'c gets it." Daniel muttered.

Max drifted ahead but within sight of her companions, senses alert and weapon ready. It was a long trek to the temple and Jack refused to let the science teams head down until SG-1 or another team had first secured it. Every morning the assigned team left at dawn to ensure the science teams had a reasonable amount of time to follow and get their work done.

"Any new thoughts on the Furlings Daniel?" Jack asked idly.

They were all highly alert but so used to working together that a conversation would have a negligible impact on their ability to perform their duties.

"Nothing worth mentioning."

"Oh? How 'bout mentioning it anyway?"

Max went still and dropped to one knee before Daniel could reply. As one the rest of SG-1 followed suit and unsafed their weapons.

"Holloway?" Jack called.

"Movement sir, ahead, two o'clock, against the wind."

Jack spotted the movement too and gestured for the team to fan out and approach.

"There's no animal life here."

"Well, there was the minotaur." Daniel pointed out.

"Yes, thank you Daniel." Jack muttered.

"Sir, it's possible it's a smaller animal that we've missed until now, it could be migratory –"

Quick as a flash a figure leapt up from the long grass and closed in on Max. Max started to pull the trigger then recognized the figure a moment before it crashed into her.

"Hold fire!" Jack roared and jerked his fist forward indicating they should close ranks.

"Base camp this is O'Neill lock it down and dial the gate we have a visual on Jarod. Get the science teams out of here, when you're clear send one team down here we're about a click from the temple the other team stay there and secure the gate. Update the General."

"Jarod! It's me!" Max gasped as the big man landed a punishing blow to her torso.

He looked crazed, hair unkempt, unwashed, sporting a beard and wild eyed. He moved faster than she could remember any human or immortal moving before, she was basically defenseless. His blows were surgically precise and agonizing in their intent. If he had wanted to simply disable her he could have multiple times. Instead he seemed content to pound away at her, triggering pressure points and other sensitive impact zones until she was half dazed and felt like she was a single raw nerve.

She couldn't tell how much time had passed but knew it could not have been more than a few seconds before Teal'c barreled into Jarod – or tried to.

His inhuman speed served him well in dodging the skilled Jaffa but with his attention split his attack slowed a modicum, enough that between the two of them Max and Teal'c managed to land a few blows of their own. To almost no effect.

"Fall back Teal'c!" Max gasped between bloodied clenched teeth as she tried to position herself in front of Teal'c.

"Take him down!" Jack shouted and three weapons opened fire. Max twisted to face Teal'c and threw them both to the ground to ensure the rest of the team had a clear line of fire.

After sometime all she could hear was the roar of her rushing blood in her ears and her own ragged breathing. She rolled away from Teal'c and got to her knees. The Jaffa sat up looking dazed and bloody but relatively unscathed. Ahead of them the grass was painted with blood but Jarod was prone.

Jack, Daniel and Carter ringed him, their weapons still focused on him.

"Sir?" Max croaked.

"Secure him Max." Jack ordered.

She got to her feet limping slightly as he Quickening took its sweet time repairing a damaged ligament in one knee then knelt and used standard issue zip ties to bind Jarod's thumbs, wrists, forearms and elbows to each other. She used nearly a dozen zip ties.

"Legs?" She asked still catching her breath.

"Leave them loose for now, if he tries to run or pulls any of that ninja shit again we'll shoot him." Jack said grimly.

"Does this mean we can go home now?" Max sighed.

* * *

><p><em>Unscheduled Offworld Activation<em>

Frasier glanced up from the patient she was examining as the warning echoed through the complex and klaxons started to ring out. Emily stood up but Methos caught her wrist.

"It's okay, it's probably just a team returning early." He said.

She slowly sat down and squeezed his hand.

"Busy place."

"With luck it will be SG-1."

* * *

><p>"SG-13's code."<p>

"Open the iris." General Hammond ordered.

The iris whipped open and the familiar shimmering puddle surface of the wormhole's event horizon greeted them. After a handful of heartbeats the familiar sight of an SGC science team toting equipment came into view. They looked harried and confused but intact and weren't moving at a speed to indicate an attack.

"Status?" Hammond asked through the mic in the control booth.

"They've found Jarod Sir, but we heard gunshots." One of the scientists supplied as he turned to the others and started a head count.

A few minutes later the military personnel of SG-7 arrived.

"SG-1 is incoming Sir, they recovered Jarod but Colonel O'Neill requested a medical team on standby, apparently he was violent and had to be subdued."

"Medical team to the gateroom." Msgt Harriman ordered without waiting for Hammond to request it.

Frasier frowned and nodded at her orderly, the two of them left the infirmary at a trot.

"Bad sign?" Prentiss asked.

"Not a good one but not particularly unusual


	23. There He Is!

Not particularly unusual. Prentiss thought and watched the smooth machinery of the infirmary kick over and thrum along as whatever emergency unfolded. Another pair of medics left at a trot with a medical bag and a gurney. She glanced at Methos' face, his tired, older face and back toward the medical personnel.

The efficiency of what seemed like a sizable response was unsettling. She hadn't asked questions of her lover regarding this strange other life, hadn't really dared, but now she regretted that.

Teal'c limped through the gate followed by Carter and Max lugging a gangly half bound stranger and Jack, bringing up the rear was SG-13. Max and Teal'c were bloodied, as was the stranger.

Hammond stood aside while the medics approached then frowned as he realized the stranger wasn't a stranger.

"Colonel?" He prompted Jack.

"It's Jarod Sir, or what's left of him. He' snot himself, I recommend full mechanical and chemical restraints he nearly killed Max and Teal'c."

Teal'c nodded grimly and allowed one of Frasier's medics to escort him to a gurney. Hammond was shaken by Teal'c's easy acceptance of the aid. How badly hurt was he?

"Sir, Methos will want to see him, I don't recommend it. I…I think he was hunting me." Max said shakily. She was bloodied limping, pale, and frightened. Afraid.

"Doctor Frasier, you heard them, he's to be treated with the highest level of caution at all times."

"Yes sir." She agreed reluctantly but one glance at Teal'c and Max was all she needed. She had treated each of them enough times to have a very good idea of the amount of punishment they could each endure. If Jarod had attacked any other members of SG-1 they would be bringing back body bags.

Max ached, she hadn't felt such lingering raw discomfort since dying badly and being introduced face first to immortality. She wanted painkillers and sleep but she had work to do, she had…a duty. She slowly undressed in the women's locker room nearest the Gateroom, moving slowly and carefully avoiding jarring and stretching her body. How curious and sour this discomfort was.

The door opened and Carter entered.

"You're okay?" She asked walking in and finding her locked.

"Uh yeah I guess, just feel like I've been run over by a truck only uh not 'cause I'd be over that by now." Max sighed and painfully tried to wriggle out of her t-shirt.

Carter winced at Max's obvious discomfort and with a quick movement tugged the immortal's shirt free and put a hand on her back bracing Max as she lost her balance slightly.

"Ugh, what the hell did he do to me?" She muttered and flashed a grateful smirk at Carter. Sam gave Max her shirt back and frowned.

"You need to get cleared by Frasier."

"Yeah, I will I just kinda stink right now."

"Come on." Sam said and offered Max an arm. To her surprise Max found that she needed it. Carter hauled her to her feet and handed her a clean t-shirt. Once again Carter helped her with it then helped her to the infirmary.

"Prognosis?" Jack asked as one of Frasier's nurses took his vitals.

"Honestly I don't know. His vitals are strong but he looks malnourished. We'll clean him up then wean the sedatives until he regains consciousness. While he's out we'll run the usual scans and compare his results to Methos' and Max's."

"What about Teal'c?"

"He'll recover Max hasn't been in yet –"

Carter entered with Max and Frasier immediately began to examine her.

"Whatever he did sucks doc." Max groaned.

Methos sat up in his bed and frowned at Max. She was paler than usual and moving like an arthritic old woman.

"Hey Emily, glad to see, sorry for the circumstances." Max gritted between clenched teeth as she carefully wriggled on to a gurney and waited for Frasier to take her pulse and other vitals.

"What hit you?" Emily asked surprised at Max's condition.

"Crazy Jarod. He's crazy now, fast as fuck and mean." Max said sagely then yelped as Frasier probed her ribs.

Emily glanced at Methos who simply frowned.

"Where is he doc?"

"An isolation cell under guard."

"Did you cut him loose?"

"No, his arms and wrists are bound."

"Don't let anyone in the room with him when he wakes up. No one." She insisted. Frasier glanced at Jack who nodded.

"Better safe than sorry, he's…he moved so fast I could barely see him." Jack said softly.

"It wasn't natural." Max agreed.

"How do we stop him?" Max asked wincing as Frasier continued her exam.

"I don't know that we can. Whatever has happened to him…" Frasier trailed off trying for the words.

"Jack…sir…you said Thor said the Furlings made us? What if we…regressed and Jarod is what we were intended to be?"

Methos felt his mouth go dry.

"This…" He cleared his throat and tried again. "This could be a disaster. If all immortals can be modified like Jarod and manipulated –"

"We don't know that." Max interjected already seeing Methos' point and afraid of what it could mean.

"Whoa whoa hold on. We don't even know that anyone could do this again, or even if it could work more than once. It didn't work on wrinkles." Jack growled and jabbed a thumb at Methos.

"Relax Colonel we don't know anything for certain." Frasier soothed and frowned at Max then spoke to a nurse issuing quiet crisp instructions.

"Verdict?" Max asked.

"Unsurprisingly you'll live. I'm prescribing pain killers and twenty four hours observation bed rest- do not argue, he nearly killed you."

"I know." Max sighed and leaned back on the narrow gurney.

**A/N I know I'm the worstest ever for updates…. *gives out cookies***


	24. Simple Really

Methos was thinking. He was thinking about how things might have been, a dangerous distraction he didn't allow himself often.

If he had never discovered Max and decided to help her, if he had never met Prentiss, if he had fled Paris after Kalas killed Don, if he had taken Macleod's head instead of offering his own, if he had leveled the SGC instead of bruising it, if he had taken Max's head instead of allowing her possessed madness to attract the SGC…

Endless ifs whirling around his head like a sub-vocal hurricane never quite voiced but too urgent and alive to be ignored.

Prentiss watched him. Saw flashes in his face, the tiniest of expressions, regret, anger, frustration, despair, sorrow, a great yawning pit of sorrow overcoming all at the end. His eyes refocused, on the present, on her.

"You've made a decision?" She asked.

"I think you can be happy without me. Eventually." He said softly.

She clutched at his nearest hand, held it between two of her own, looked in to his face but couldn't see anything past the sorrow, it was a mask hiding his intentions from her.

"Methos what are you going to do?" She croaked throat dry and hands clammy.

He shook his head once and looked away from her, toward the door with its obligatory guards and back at her, a sidewise edgy look.

Quick as a flash he was out of the bed and past the guards. Dressed in a flapping papery hospital gown, with electronic leads trailing behind him from the heart monitor he had left behind he took off like a bat out of hell. Behind him startled shouts and the screech of the disconnected monitor rang out followed by the squawk of a radio.

Methos knew he had almost no time and only one chance, if that. So he ran pushing his newly frail and too-weak body as far as he dared. He would need some strength at the end to have any chance at all.

He knew where to go in spite of having been banned from the mountain for years; he danced past guards, around patrols and in one case through an alert duet of armed Marines. He gambled that they were under orders not to shoot and won the gamble.

He went down, always down.

* * *

><p>"He's going to do something permanent." Emily said softly as she looked down the hall. Max was on the radio arguing with O'Neill.<p>

"Sir I can still catch him –"

"Fine go but don't get killed Max we don't know if you'll bounce back." He said sharply.

She was already out the door radio forgotten on the cot. The S.F. she had taken it from retrieved it and updated the Colonel.

"Goddamnit." Jack snarled and snatched up a zat gun from a locked armament locker outside the cell Jarod had been trapped in. He tossed one to Carter and glanced toward the elevator – the only way in to the section.

"He doesn't have a pass card." Sam suggested hopefully.

"Won't stop him."

She nodded reluctantly.

"Sir…should we stop him?"

"Probably." Jack said unconvinced and powered up the Zat.

"Right." Carter agreed and did likewise.

* * *

><p>Methos hooked a passcard from one of the Marines he had knocked down. That had cost him, he had nearly lost his footing and he knew if he went down it would take too long for him to get up. He slid to a halt and slammed the open button on an elevator as shouts and running boots on concrete echoed all around him. The door finally opened and he darted in and hit the close button with one hand while sliding the pass card into its slot and hitting the lowest button on the console.<p>

He held his breath for three agonizing heartbeats and the elevator began to move. He let out his breath and the exertion caught up with him. His knees quivered and he slammed one hand against the cold steel of the reinforced elevator doors. Bracing himself with one hand he left the passcard in its slot and armed sweat off his face.

Max sprinted after Methos, saw him enter the elevator put on another burst of speed – feeling something give in her right leg as she did – and watched the elevator close, felt it's rumbling descent as she crashed into the closed exterior doors. Cursing, knowing she was going to be far too late she smashed her fist against the recall button.

The door opened and Methos staggered out. Carter and Jack waited.

"Hi." Jack said grimly.

Methos looked from one to the other, knew he couldn't force them out of the way.

"I know what's going on." He gasped.

Carter frowned at Methos, glanced at Jack then back to Methos. "Sir does –"

"Let him say his piece." Jack said softly and glanced at Sam then softened his stance but kept the weapon aimed at Methos.

"You sure about this?" Jack asked him.

"No." Methos admitted, fear in his voice.

Carter looked at her commander and then at Methos and lowered her weapon.

"What about your wife?" She asked, her voice sounded kind not accusing.

"She's the strongest person I know. Maybe…maybe now she can have children in peace." He tried to speak with a steady voice but his pitch wavered and broke.

"Sir?" Sam asked.

"I don't think I've given you enough credit. I'm sorry about that."

"Same to you Colonel." Methos said shakily and nodded once at Jack, then the officers parted like the red sea and Methos approached the cell behind them.

"It's been an honor." Jack said quietly, Methos put a hand on the door and looked up at Jack. O'Neill inserted his pass card into the electronic lock. Behind him, Carter saluted tears glistening in her eyes; her demeanor and salute were parade ground perfect otherwise.

Methos felt himself nod once, a very slight gesture. He had to conserve his energy after all.


	25. The Answer

She ended up one floor above Jarod's cell. She had to call the same damn elevator to her floor and wait for the ride down. She knew it was too late to stop whatever madness had possessed her friend but she had to be there. Daniel had joined her at the last second, face red and sweaty.

They were silent during the few seconds of the ride.

The doors opened to reveal a sterile gray hallway and a door flanked by Sam and Jack.

"He –"

"A few seconds ago." Sam said gently.

Max swallowed, Daniel put a hand on her shoulder and that gesture of kindness nearly got through, nearly brought her wall down but she managed to step out of the elevator with a steady stride and Daniel's hand fell away.

"Max –" Sam said then fell silent. She glanced at Jack.

"He just went in –"

A horrific inhuman screeching cracked through the air like a bullwhip but didn't fade away, it grew louder and in moments the terrible sound had shattered their senses and scrambled their thoughts. Like an unnatural flash bang minus the flash then the lights went out and the emergency system didn't kick in. The noise hung in the air like the stink of rot on a humid summer day and then cut off as sharply as it had started.

Max wiped blood from her upper lip and looked around. The mortals were prone on the ground. She quickly checked their vitals, Sam and Daniel were fine but Jack wasn't breathing. His pulse was fading.

She started rescue breathing, between breaths she glanced over the other two downed members of her team looking for a radio. The elevator behind her snapped open abruptly as the emergency lighting kicked in and Teal'c and Frasier emerged with a medical kit.

"He hasn't been down long." Max gasped as she kept going and Frasier set up.

"Methos?" Teal'c asked he held a staff weapon in one hand.

"The others have strong vitals – he's in the cell T." Max said catching her breath and moving out of Frasier's way.

Teal'c moved Daniel and Carter down the hall as he started to move back Jack came to and tore the O2 mask off his face.

"Drama queen." Max gasped and struggled to her feet. She wiped at her face again, irritated to see her nose still bled.

"What the hell is going on?" Frasier snapped.

"Probably shouldn't have let him back in the mountain." Jack wheezed looking past Max and Teal'c at Daniel and Sam.

"Sir I think we need to open the door." Max said warily.

Jack grunted and reached for his radio, it didn't react when he squeezed it.

Frasier tried hers, it let out a satisfying squelch so she handed it over.

"This is O'Neill, do we have eyes inside Jarod's cell?" He was too fried to recall the level or cell number.

"Negative sir all eyes on your level are down."

Jack scrubbed at his face and glanced at Frasier, she had moved to check on Daniel and Sam. They were already rousing as she examined them.

"What the hell was that?" Carter croaked holding her head in both hands.

"I think it was a death scream." Max said softly.

Jack pulled his security pass out of the electronic lock, it was warped and singed as though by an electrical charge.

"Awesome." Jack sighed.

He nodded at the rest of the team. They fell back with Frasier behind them and waited intently. Max's nose had stopped bleeding; she stood beside Jack and offered him her own pass.

"Think it'll work?"

"I don't think its locked anymore." He said and put a hand on the door, he tugged at it experimentally and it drifted open on well-made hinges.

Max slowly entered with Jack right behind her. The emergency lighting had failed in the cell; the only light was what made it around them via the doorway. She entered and stepped to one side. Jack did the same stepping to the opposite side and allowing more light to filter in.

Jarod and Methos lay prone on the floor. Methos' was pressed to Jarod's bare chest, roughly positioned over his heart. Without waiting for orders or permission Max carefully knelt next to them. She put a hand over Methos' and winced as the cool flesh met her sweaty palm. Steeling herself she lifted Methos' dead hand and gently laid it aside, she didn't look at his face, couldn't.

She put a hand on Jarod's chest, felt it warm under her fingers and the slow almost imperceptible rise and fall of shallow breaths.

"He's alive, Methos is down." She said and felt a throb of grief pulse through her.

"I'm so sorry Max." Jack said gently.

"What…how did you…" She wasn't even clear about what she was asking, just knew that Jack knew _something_ somehow.

"Come on –"

"What the fuck just happened Jack?" She asked.

"We should have realized it sooner, I should have, I'm sorry Max." Carter said as she entered the cell and took Max's hand. She lead the unprotesting shocked immortal out in to the dim light of the hall and helped her sit with her back to the wall.

"Just …small words." Max said and closed her eyes tightly, felt hot tears squeeze free, felt the cold concrete of the floor and well pressing her flesh through the thins sweat soaked cloth of her uniform.

"Uh …" Sam said and licked her lips. She was better at technical jargon than comforting speeches.

"It wasn't natural, what Jarod was." Jack said still standing in the cell watching Frasier work.

"Methos came back mentally sound but weakened, older, his abilities were questionable. Jarod was…stronger, faster, his healing seemed to be augmented." Sam said and took a breath to keep going.

"Oh my god they drained him and…Jesus." Max whispered hoarsely, interrupting Sam's explanation, then whipped her head to one side, thrust out her arm to catch herself from keeling over and was violently sick. The tears flowed freely now.

"I think he knew he was dying and…his quickening was –" Sam said in a rush reaching to support Max.

"Fuck, I get it oh Christ what the fuck kind of monsters were the Furlings? What the ever loving fuck?!" Max gasped wiping at her mouth.

Then Daniel was there, on her other side, strong hand on her shoulder, soft words in her ear. She heard someone sobbing and wondered who it was until Frasier's face swam into view and something cold pressed against her arm.

* * *

><p>"Hysteria?"<p>

"No, no I don't think that will be necessary. She's stronger than that. I think it was the combination of mental and physical shock. She just needs time and rest."

"I should check on uh..well Agent Prentiss." Jack's voice sad and tired, maybe even older somehow, but his.

"I'm sorry Colonel."

"Me too."

"F-frasier?" Max croaked. She felt like she was wearing clothes two sizes too small after gargling nails.

"How are you feeling?" Frasier asked. She looked incredibly worn, Max thought. Raccoon eyes of exhaustion, tension lines around her mouth, a worry line creasing her forehead.

"Awful, can I have some water?"

* * *

><p>"He's dead." Prentiss said as Jack approached her.<p>

She was sitting in the dining hall most frequented by staff, a cold cup of coffee held loosely in both hands as she sat at the cheap mass produced table and waited for her world to officially end.

"As far as we can tell yes, I'm very sorry."

She closed her eyes took a breath, held it, took another. _There you can breathe after all. _ She thought raggedly and opened her eyes.

"Did he suffer?"

"We …. We don't know." He thought of the horrific noise that had taken them out of commission, kept his expression calm and grave.

She dropped her eyes to the coffee mug, caught a portion of her face reflected in it. A dry eyed stranger.

"If you would like to see him –"

"No." She said emphatically. Part of her wondered at that. Didn't she want to see? Need to see? To be sure he was dead? What if he somehow managed to wake up and come back to her? What if she didn't come to him and he stayed still and waxen for the rest of the Earth's existence?

"No." She said again and swallowed hard forcing her lunatic thoughts into clear orderly channels. She licked her lips and pushed the coffee away. Remembered the sorrow in his eyes his parting words and rolled her shoulders back, met O'Neill's gaze.

"He knew Colonel. He was afraid and it broke his heart to do it but he knew it was necessary and he knew what it would cost."

He put his hands over hers; they were warm, calloused, rough but strong hands. Hers were soft, he felt the edge of the small diamond of her ring press against the sensitive skin of his palm. Felt her shift until she clutched his hands and he felt the tremor in her grip. He could guess at the torrent of emotion raging in her soul betrayed by that tremor.

"Jarod?" she asked calmly.

"He's alive but unconscious."

"Good, he thought Jarod was worth it." Her tone was emphatic, almost brusque but her eyes drifted away from his down to their joined hands.

Jack wanted to say something to ease the hurt, wanted to agree with Methos, wanted to say, why yes of course Jarod is a trade up from that blood thirsty monster. But was he? Methos had not been a saint; some would argue he hadn't even been particularly good, more pragmatic than anything else. So sure on paper Jarod was probably a better choice.

But Emily had married the man and known the monster and Methos had chosen to die for someone else.

He settled for another firm squeeze of her trembling hands.

"Colonel…does this…feeling…does it get any better?" She whispered looking down at their clasped hands.

"In time it…scabs. The raw edges are smoothed. But the hurt remains." He said gently.

A single hot tear landed on the back of his right hand. He watched it make it's chaotic way to the tabletop, braced for more to follow.

"I need to call Quantico." She said instead.

* * *

><p>Hotch's expression shifted ever so subtly from his usual stony façade to a visage of resigned pain. A casual observer would not have noticed the thinning of his lips, the tightening of the skin around his eyes, the slight shift of his jaw, but for Aaron Hotchner S.S.A of the F.B.I. the change was as good as a scream.<p>

He slowly placed his office phone in its cradle and looked at the photo on his desk. It had been taken the day he ran a marathon and the team had greeted him with Jack at the end. Emily was laughing and clapping with Garcia at her side.

He closed his eyes and picked up the receiver, hit a speed dial button without looking and waited.

"Your command my liege?"

"Garcia." He said and paused to collect his thoughts.

"Sir?" She pressed tone sharply devoid of mirth.

"I need you and Reid to go to Colorado Springs."

"Is Emily –"

"She's…it's Methos. He's dead."

"Dead?"

"A General Hammond will have an escort meet you at the airport."

"Oh my god poor Emily yes sir booking a flight now –"

"JJ. Morgan, Rossi and I will follow as soon as we can –"

"Yes sir I'm patching Reid in now."

"Hotch?" Reid said, he sounded sleepy, Aaron glanced at the clock on his wall and winced.

"Reid you and Garcia are going to Colorado Springs to meet Emily, Methos is dead."

There was a long shocked silence.

"I'm on my way –"

"I'll meet you at your place." Garcia interjected.

Hotchner only half listened as they hashed out the logistics. He had four more calls to make.


	26. Ripples

Dead, not off wandering somewhere, not in hiding, not forging a new identity, not scheming…dead, Macleod tried to process that information. He had known Methos for a short time chronologically but the things they had survived together…how could he be dead? Not a mark on him. Head and neck intact but dead. Dead. Methos was dead.

Macleod started to cry.

Joe thought about calling Amy, telling her it was over…no one would find Methos and complete his Chronicle now. He thought about calling her and telling her everything he knew… he thought about calling her and telling her he loved her.

A tear landed on the back of his hand.

Richie Ryan stood on a balcony in a large house in a dusty town. Desert sun beat down on the worn motorcycle leathers he wore. At his hip hung his sword, naked and obvious, he shifted his weight and leaned against the steel railing surrounding the balcony and gazed across the desert expanse. He had received Mac's message hours before. He didn't know how to feel, Methos had been an acquaintance, a near enemy, and something like a friend. Too complicated, too dangerous, too unpredictable to trust. Richie found it was the nature of the other immortal's death that preoccupied and unsettled him. Someone so powerful, so clever and ruthless killed without losing his head?

Richie shivered.

Amanda Darieux looked at the silk sheets and the gorgeous man tangled in them and rose from the bed. She scooped up a robe and slung it on easily then padded over to a bay window and curled up on the window seat. Duncan had called her and told her. A world without Methos wasn't changed in any fundamental way, she knew that, but it still seemed emptier. She looked at her lover and at the gray sky beyond the window.

Amanda sighed.

Jack O'Neill studied the report in front of him and the blank box leering at him demanding he sign it. He hadn't written it, he hadn't been able to. Carter had written it with supplementary reports from Daniel, Teal'c and Max. He didn't really understand why Methos had died. He understood that it was his decision to die, that he had not given them any choice in the matter but the actual mechanism of his death was baffling. Carter's supplement suggested some kind of one way energy exchange but even she didn't really know. He had known somehow when Methos arrived on that elevator, just as Carter had, that what the immortal was doing was fatal and irrevocable but he didn't know what it was.

He signed the report.

Carter didn't know why she was crying. She had barely known Methos but still she cried. Stress, she thought, just stress being relieved. Maybe some part frustration, to have struggled so long and endured so much just to fail. No, she thought wiping at her cheeks it wasn't that. Methos hadn't failed, none of them had. Maybe she cried for Max, or Jarod, or her friends. Maybe she cried at the magnitude of his sacrifice, maybe she cried because it was a waste. So much life and knowledge snuffed out.

She washed her face.

Daniel worked trying not to think about the report he had sent to Jack, about his own losses, about Max's silence, Jarod's apparent vegetative state, Emily Prentiss' shattered world, all the losses and pain the SGC had endured only to enjoy this latest…He picked up a sheaf of papers and skimmed through them, caught the edge of a photograph and tugged it free. An aerial image of the alien temple, captured after the electrical storm or whatever it had been finally failed. He set the photograph down and laid another image next to it, the image of the temple on Carthis.

He began to compare and take notes.

Frasier sighed at the test results and filed them away. Everything indicated the results were normal and correct to a young adult male in good health. Whatever had killed Methos and nulled his Quickening hadn't left any traces in his tissue or fluids. Every scan and image of his body was the same. Inert dead flesh. The faint scent of decay even emanated from him. All she could be certain of was that Methos' biological body was absolutely dead. She felt a headache blossom at the base of her skull, felt the weight of a day without sleep, felt the lurking despair of a doctor that was too late.

She took an aspirin.

Teal'c stared at the candle flame set before him. His huge shoulders rose and fell evenly as he breathed slowly seeking Kel'no'reem. It didn't come. He closed his eyes and saw the dangerous immortal, flashes of memory faded by time, enhanced by tragedy. He respected the immortal and felt a sense of loss at not knowing him better. He thought of Max, adrift without her most familiar rock at hand.

He snuffed the candle.

General Hammond couldn't focus on the paperwork in front of him. Harriman had quietly slipped away some time before. An astute man he knew when his general did not need him. Hammond had lost personnel, more than he cared to think of. Faces and names that dogged his sleep. Somehow losing this man was hitting harder than most of the other losses. Maybe it was his reluctance to get involved, SG-1's determination to recover him, his dedication to protecting Earth…maybe Hammond recognized some part of himself in Methos, the part that could bring Max to heel with cold…sometimes cruel truths. The part that could tally the numbers and make the pragmatic choice in spite of the screaming of his heart…

He pushed the paperwork aside.

Max floated in a chemical fog, born by heavy sedatives and muscle relaxants to a jellied state of neutrality. She had woken twice since Methos' death and been knocked on her ass moments later. The primitive lizard brain of her wanted Jarod's head on a pike. Her rational mind knew full well he was innocent in Methos' death, that it had been her mentor's sole decision and no one, not Emily, not Macleod, and certainly not Max could have talked him out of it. But lizard brains don't listen to logic.

Max opened her eyes.


	27. No Loose Ends

It rained the day of the funeral. Jack had pulled strings so Methos could be buried in Arlington. Emily decided Seacouver would be more fitting and easier to visit than Paris. An honor guard accompanied his casket, Richie, Max, Macleod, Jack, Rossi, Hotch, Derek and Carter were pallbearers while Daniel stayed with Emily. Garcia and Reid hovered at hand while Seaver stood ready to help as needed. There was no need.

Max read a eulogy. The attendees and honor guard were 'in' on the secret at hand so she spoke frankly.

"You all know who I am, what I am, and can guess what I would be without Duncan and Methos." She said and took a deep breath.

"Methos was…complicated doesn't cover it. But I know that every person standing here would be dead or fucked without him. I know I would be. I would have been killed by the first hunter to blow into town if he hadn't brought me to Macleod. So I'm here and I'm alive because of him. Whatever else he was or did I know that much."

She cleared her throat and looked up from her sheet of paper to the crowd.

"I know that he cared about his friends and he loved Emily Prentiss. He could be cruel and cold, pragmatic and ruthless but ….while I knew him he was never those things for himself. He blew the shit out of the SGC to protect us. He traveled the world to avenge someone he loved and thought was lost. He offered his head to a stranger and later risked his own life to save that same stranger from darkness. He forgave the unforgivable even if trust didn't come with it. He drank Joe's place under the table but made sure Joe never paid a dime in taxes and had the best liquor rates in Seacouver." Someone laughed softly at that. Max smiled and straightened.

"He was a monster once but in the right time and place we all can be, he did his best to keep me from that path and he succeeded better with others." She said firmly and met Richie's eyes.

"Most of all he was just a man. He had skills and knowledge but he mostly just wanted to be and let be, toward the end at least. I don't know why he did what he did, I don't know if anyone really does. All I know is he thought it was for the best and seeing as he'd spent thousands of years not dying and grown to love life an awful damn lot I don't think we can question it, at least I can't. "

She reached into her hip length leather jacket and pulled out a home brewed bottle of beer.

"To Methos, the oldest immortal we've ever known, my friend, my mentor, my tormentor …my savior. Save me a seat." She said choking up at the last and shoved the paper in her opposite jacket pocket then opened the beer and down a mouthful before pouring it on the dewy grass. She looked to Emily.

More toasts followed, more libations were poured and shared. There was no twenty-one gun salute, Emily had requested they not hold it. It began to rain at some point and the crowd thinned out. Max thanked her team and stayed behind while they went to Joe's where the reception would be held. Eventually only Max, Macleod, Richie and Emily's team remained in the rain.

Max sat next to Emily and let the rain fall unnoticed.

"I'm sorry." She said and took the other woman's hand. Emily squeezed Max's soggy mitt and smiled tiredly.

"I'll be glad when all this is over."

"The service?"

"Some part of me expects him to walk in to my life again. He did it so often. Every time I thought we were well and truly finished he would show up. His timing was always awful but…"

"Perfectly appropriate." Max said with a smile and Emily laughed.

"Oh god I thought I knew what I was getting in to when I took his ring. I really did. I thought, here's this amazing guy, you never have to worry about him getting sick or hurt, he'll never think your job is too macabre or weird…"

Max was quiet. Hotch gathered his team with a glance and mouthed 'Joe's' to Max. Emily was still staring at the neatly covered grave.

"Emily I meant what I said about …why he did it. But that doesn't mean you aren't allowed to be hurt and pissed off. If…if it makes any difference he did it so quickly because he would lose his nerve if you asked. He loved you …so much."

"It doesn't help. But, thank you, for trying. We should go before they send out a search party."

"Are you sure?" Max asked, rain sheeted down her face, her short hair clung to her skull and her clothes were water logged and heavy but she didn't shiver and didn't seem eager to leave.

"Yes. I'm sure. He's gone, I think I can accept that eventually. We're done here."

Max helped her up and they started the sticky perilous trek to the parking lot.

The next day as SG-1 loaded up for the drive back to the mountain Max got Jack alone.

"You ready to head back?" Jack asked. Max was standing with him outside the motel's office.

"No, I'm not going back…sir."

Jack didn't miss the honorific. He folded his arms and sighed.

"I'm listening."

"I'm going to turn myself in and plead guilty to the charges."

"Are you insane –"

"If I plea out I can get a federal prison sentence. Pull strings if you have to-"

"Max I get that you're torn up over this but getting locked up –"

"I have to do it Colonel. I can't keep running away for the next sixty years and hope that my life…that I change for the better. I didn't have to kill all those people, we both know that –"

"Max –"

"I know Methos gave you the snow leopard speech. He always does when I fuck up and I guess it's true but I'm not a fucking animal sir. I have to pay my dues and if I plea out I can keep the SGC out of it and with a friendly prosecutor –"

"You're talking about being in prison for _years_ Max. I know years don't mean a hell of a lot to you people but they do to _us_ and they do to Earth. What the hell are we supposed to do if we need you?"

"Sir are you comfortable helping me run? I don't think you are and you shouldn't be. How can we look our allies in the eyes and say we're good people with this little secret in the closet? We're hypocrites Jack and as along as the SGC shelters me we always will be. I'm not okay with that and I owe those people's families. I can't give back what I took all I have that's worth a damn is my life so I'll give what I can of it."

"You don't think what you're doing at the SGC counts for that?"

"Not while I'm hiding off world." Max said emphatically.

"Uh, guys?" Daniel asked. Teal'c was sitting in the driver's seat of their rental car adjusting his hat and Carter was standing next to Daniel frowning.

"Tell me I'm wrong Daniel." Max said folding her arms.

"That's –"

"Shut up or put up Danny. You're this team's conscience aren't you? Teal'c you know this is the right thing to do."

Teal'c studied her then gently inclined his head.

"Carter you know as well as Jack and Daniel that I'm a liability until this is sorted out."

"Get in the car." Jack ordered.

"No sir. I'm sorry, I respect you but this is too important. You can drag me back to the mountain but I'll get out and do this from Colorado. You know I will."

"Sir… I don't think this is an argument we should win." Carter said carefully.

Four days later Max was being introduced to her new cell.

**A/N That's it folks. Well. For this one at least...**


End file.
